GOING HOME
by HRAYTON
Summary: This is a story of a man's journey home to Illinois from California on "The Day" told through his journal entries.


Musical suggestion for this segment: Tony Bennet, "I left my heart in San Francisco"

September 19th, 2006.

Today. What can I say about today that can do credit to the experience? Today was a day to end all days? Maybe. Today was a HELL of a day, maybe the worst day of my life? Today just took a serious right turn from reality and went to the Twilight Zone? I cannot believe this just happened. I am sitting in the dark, writing by candlelight in my apartment in Petaluma, looking through the south facing window at a glow on the horizon that USED to be San Francisco. I have a cat on my lap, sleeping, no power, and the largest terrorist attack in history (or war) just happened. Today will probably go down in history as The Day. Again, I am feeling a serious detachment from reality right now, it makes my head swim. The only feeling I can roughly compare it to for the sense of unreality, is the short list of 1sts in my life. The first time winning at something I had always lost at, the first time I realized that a girl liked me as much as I liked her, the first time I got drunk, or smoked pot, or got laid. That's about it. After every single one of those things there is a moment, where you think to yourself, "I can't believe that just happened. I can't believe I just did that." But it did, and I did, and the world was never the same afterwards. This is the Grand Maul Seizure of "I can't believe its." So, let me tell you about my day, this big numero uno on a list of 1sts.

Honestly, I have to get this out on paper, or I'm going to pop, I am alone, I am scared, I don't know what I'm going to do, but if I can get some perspective on this thing, it's going to save me the trip down the rabbit hole. Things are definitely never going to be the same again.

For starters, I am a pretty resourceful guy, and I have always prided myself on being prepared for the worst. I've read all of the books, I have a fully stocked backpack in the trunk of my car, I read the earthquake preparation fliers, pay attention to flight attendants when they're describing how to get out of a burning, sinking, airplane, heck, I'm even a lifetime member in the NRA. I've always felt strong, young, and full of pride in my preparedness, problem? What problem? This is what we'll do to fix it! I was most of the way home from work today, and everything changed.

I had just driven past the landfill on Highway 101, just north of Novato when it happened. The whole road in front of my car just sort of whited out for a second, my car died, and I watched a pickup and a semi heading south drive right off the road, and then I saw the shadows of the trees sort of...move. Traffic was stopped as far as I could see. I had these crazy bars of purple in my peripheral vision, like I had just glanced at the sun or something, and I was blinking like crazy to clear my eyes, which had NEVER watered that badly. I was near the bottom of the hill when it happened, down along the Marin/Sonoma County line, but the flash had been visible at the top of the hill overlooking Petaluma. So, I started hiking to the top of the hill, I wanted to check on the guy in the pickup, and the guy driving the semi. Other folks were out of their cars now too, and all along the way people were asking, "What happened?" People were trying to get signals on their cell phones, people were helping injured people out of a few wrecks, and one guy, who was swearing under his breath, was trying to mop hot coffee out of his pants with some napkins. There was a crowd gathering at the top of the hill about a half mile away, and turning away from people that I couldn't help I puffed my way the rest of the way up the hill. I kind of knew what I was going to see, the stopped cars, my stopped watch, the flash, but I had to see, I had to SEE it. Just to be sure, I had to know.

Everyone at the top of the hill was staring back to the south, looking right through me, at whatever lay beyond...and slowly I turned myself, and I saw it. That big, black, fiery, oily black cloud. It looked just like the pictures, just like the stock footage from the Nevada test sites, what child of the Cold War wouldn't recognize it? Mushroom cloud. Some people just turned and ran, screaming, to wherever they thought that they could go. Not me, I just stood there, mesmerized by the glow, by the strange pornographic beauty of utter and complete destruction. It was seductive, there were these really crazy, thin tornadoes spinning, and dancing to the side of it, but they were the sideshow, the main event was definitely,... and I became aware that someone was talking to me. "What?" I asked "You'll have to get to shelter sir!" a motorcycle cop was saying.

"Ok." I responded, and with a last glance at that awful cloud, I started walking downhill towards Petaluma. I wonder if he even realizes that he's not a cop anymore. I don't think anyone is anything anymore. Today changed everything. I was almost home tonight before I remembered my backpack in the trunk of the car. It took me three and a half hours to walk a distance that would have taken me seven minutes to drive. Maybe I can go back for it tomorrow.

There were lots of people walking with me, quiet, scared people, and in some cases the blind were literally leading the blind, they had been unlucky enough to be driving south when the nuke detonated. So, now I'm home, in my apartment with no power, and I don't know what to do, what is going to happen next, or whether or not there is going to be any help coming. I want my mom. I don't want to be here in California any more, I want to go home, back to Illinois where I grew up, and I think that's what I'm going to do, even if I have to walk the whole way. I've packed some stuff in case they evacuate us, spare underwear, socks, toothbrush, some food and water, we'll see in the morning. Right now, I'm just staring out the window, at the glow that used to be San Francisco.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Rush, "Closer to the Heart"

September 20th, 2006

FEMA Camp, North of Santa Rosa, Ca.

They came around dawn today, I struggled up from a bleary eyed state of unconsciousness, I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep, the journal forgotten, lying across my lap. There was a truck rolling slowly through the apartment complex, with a loudspeaker on top of it blaring the same message over and over again. "RESIDENTS OF THIS NEIGHBORHOOD! THE GOVERNMENT HAS MANDATED THAT YOU EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! PROCEED TO STREET LEVEL AND WAIT BY THE CURB! TRUCKS WILL BE DISPATCHED TO PICK YOU UP SHORTLY! RESIDENTS OF THIS NEIGHBORHOOD! TH..." The cats were looking at me and yawning. I ran into my bedroom, and dressed in hiking clothes, put on some boots, grabbed a light jacket, and as an after thought, stuffed my Beretta down inside the backpack, with a box of 9mm shells. The cats were meowing at me that their dish was empty. The cats, what was I going to do with the cats?

"Well ladies, I guess you're on your own for awhile." I said. I grabbed the 50 lb bag of cat food out of the closet, and dumped it on the kitchen floor, turned on the faucet, filled every mixing bowl I had with water, and then opened the door to the deck, so that when the food and water ran out, they would be able to get outside. I picked them both up and loved on them for a minute, and then, locking the door behind me, I went to wait at the curb for the trucks. "They're cats," I thought to myself, "They'll go feral, but they'll live." I looked up and saw them watching me through the window. Good luck kitty critters!  
The trucks picked up everyone in the complex, and very soon we were on 101 North, heading for Santa Rosa. I sat near the back of the truck we were on, next to a scared looking kid from the National Guard. "Does anyone know what exactly happened?" I asked him casually, "Who did it?" He took a drag on his cigarette. "Nah man, nobody tells us sht" he responded. "Where are we going?" I asked. "Our orders are to pick people up when we find them, and take them to a FEMA camp north of Santa Rosa. It's gonna be a long day." And that was all the information I could get out of him.

When we got to the camp, I was relieved to see tents set up, big Red Cross shelters, and people being processed in. As we got off of the trucks, there was a man with a bullhorn shouting instructions, "Men to the left! Women to the right!" And people were lining up accordingly. For a split second, visions of places like Dachau, and Bergen Belsen, swam through my mind, and then I shrugged it off. We had to give our names, where we were from, any medical needs, and then they led us to the showers, those that passed with minimal or no radiation, were sent to another area, assigned a tent and a cot, those that spiked the geiger counters were to dispose of their clothes, and everything on their person, and into the showers they went, to scrub and scrub. If they came out "hot" they went back in again, until the monitors were satisfied. I had to go into the showers, and dispose of all of my stuff. I didn't think that I had gotten dosed that badly, but apparently I had. They let me keep the journal though, but not the gun, and not the clothes.

When I finally got out of the showers they fed me, gave me new clothes, and shoes, and I ended up in a little community hall, playing cards with a guy named Mike, he was from Novato, and already his hair was falling out. He looked across the table at me and said, "So, what do you do for a living?" And then it hit me, sucker punch. A simple question really, it would have been so easy to answer yesterday. I don't have a job, I don't have a place to live, I have no money, someone lifted my wallet while I was in the showers, I have nothing. I thought for a minute, and then I kind of laugh/cried out "I guess I'm unemployed Mike." We howled with laughter, and then we cried, and then we laughed some more. We talked about people we had known here, and then we moved on.

There are a lot of ministers, and priests, and grief counselors here. There have been a few suicides already, and I saw a man that looked Arabic being severely beaten by a mob of guys, until the soldiers waded in and took him out. Mostly though, looking around this place, I am seeing things that I don't like, and I feel pity for those who lost even more than I did. They were from here, I am not. I am going to get home no matter what it takes, and at least I have a place to go, their place to go disappeared in one incendiary heartbeat.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Rush, "The Trees"

September 30, 2006.  
FEMA Camp, north of Santa Rosa, Ca.

I am numb. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically numb. Whoever said that "no man is an island" obviously never spent any time in Northern California. It was hard to meet people that you could depend on before the bombs, now it is next to impossible. I want to go home, back to Illinois, back to where my roots are, I can't say that enough. Roots are important, and even more so in the aftermath of a tragedy.

It's obvious, in retrospect, to look back at the chain of events that led us to this point, and realize that we ALL should have seen this coming. But we didn't. It was willful blindness; we were too caught up in our daily lives, living paycheck to paycheck, sleek, comfortable, smug, and superior in our own brand of personal wisdom. We were secure in the knowledge that bad things only happen to other people. THAT (whatever "that" is) will never happen to me! It's too bad for those people affected, and I wish them all the best, but I have my own problems. A week or two goes by, and you promptly forget and move on with your life, even while people continue to suffer. 9/11, New Orleans and Katrina, whole towns wiped off the map by tornadoes in the Midwest...children dying in an overturned bus, capsized ships. "What a pity." we think, and move on. We should have known that no one was prepared for this. We should have known, when we saw those parking lots full of trailers sitting, EMPTY, 200 miles from the people that needed them, we should have known...and done something while there was still time. Oh how those victims must have hated us, going about our normal lives, la-de-da, everything's fine! And now it's our turn...We are not hearing any news here. I'm sure that someone, somewhere, knows what happened here. CNN is probably showing the highlights, right now, on an endless loop. Photogenic people with perfect smiles, and perfect hair, are most likely waving microphones in front of cameras, and shaking their heads. They are probably showing far away shots of the mushroom cloud over San Francisco, and someone, somewhere is watching, and thinking, "What a pity. I'm glad that's not me, but I have my own problems, bills to pay, gas went up again, I wonder what's for dinner?" And then they change the channel.

This place is getting terrible. There are too many people here. The crime rises exponentially with every busload of evacuees they bring into the camp. Groups of young men, with the mad light of hatred in their eyes, roam the camp in groups of ten or twenty, like wolves, rabid wolves. The place is divided up like slices of pie. White, Black, Hispanic, Asian, Mayan Indians from the Yucatan, others. Sanitation, rape, murder, revenge murder, drugs, robbery, theft, and arson are the buzzwords of the day, they rule this place. Suicides are up, and it's like someone took a maximum security prison, and blew it up to the size of the whole world. Watching over it all is the U.S. Government. The armed forces put their time in patrolling the camp, there is a curfew at night, and while they're around, everyone is well behaved, but the second they move on, it's business as usual.  
The tragedy is compounded daily, as the dead pile up in long lines. I wonder when they will run out of body bags? Martial law has been declared in Northern California, and they are shooting looters in Marin County from what I hear. It's been ten days since the bombs, and you can still see the angry smudge on the horizon of a burning San Francisco. There must be a hundred thousand people here right now, bewildered, hurt, angry victims. What is this place going to be like in another week? A month? I have to leave soon; I don't want to be someone's victim. I'm getting out. It won't be long before disease, famine, revolution, etc. tears this place apart like the rotten piece of fruit it is, and I definitely don't want to be here when it does.  
I have found a few people that have the same idea, one couple has a vacation home in the Sierras, and they're going to try for it on foot. We all agree though, we're going to have to leave, and soon. More later.

Musical suggestion for this segment: The Police, "Every Breath You Take"

October 4th, 2006  
FEMA Camp, North of Santa Rosa, Ca.

We are getting out tonight. The military has become a more pronounced presence in the camp as conditions have deteriorated. Too many people, not enough resources, and it has been two weeks since the bombs. I think the size of the camp has doubled in the last 4-5 days. I think that they are bringing everyone here, regardless of whether or not there is the risk of contamination. Where is this place going to be six or eight weeks from now?

A little news has been trickling in with each new bus of evacuees. It's all localized though, and we haven't seen anyone from the government yet, other than the National Guardsmen. You would think that there would be some kind of public statement made, like, "This is what is going on. This is what happens next." But, it doesn't seem like there is a plan at all. People just keep arriving, and there is no news. It's frustrating really, 2 weeks! Where is the Red Cross? Where are the people from other countries? It doesn't make sense. What is happening nationally? Lots of questions, but no answers. Lots of rumor and speculation.

We saw some trucks roll in this afternoon with what looked to be bales of barbed wire in the back. I don't know if that is designed to keep people in, or others out, but we're not waiting around to find out. We will be leaving right after full dark tonight, after things settle down a little bit. My traveling companions, the ones with the place in the Sierras, their names are Kyle, and Carlita Myer. They have a one year old little girl, and she is cute as a button. We have/had some friends in common down in Marin County. The other folks are Ben and Becky Webb, and Ben's brother Brian. There will be seven of us all together including the baby.

We are not sure which direction to go from here. The terrain gets a little rugged in these parts, and it's not like we can head directly east. We either need to go further north, and work our way east, or we can head back south, and then go east. Heading south will put us in danger of radiation exposure again, but if we do that, the chance exists to swing through Petaluma, and maybe pick up some stuff that we could use. I have/had warm clothing, food, a hunting rifle, and all my spare camping supplies there that weren't with my pack in the car. On the other hand, they are shooting looters, and without my ID, there's just no way to prove that I belong there. Plus, the possibility exists, that we could just get snapped up by another patrol, and thrown right back into the camp system. But, first things first, we need to leave tonight.

The decision has been made to go north. The Myers, although tempted to swing through Petaluma, don't want to risk their daughter's health, and I can't blame them. The Webbs agree as well, so I could either go it alone, which doesn't seem too wise right now, or I go with the group consensus that north will be the better way to travel. I will abide by their decision for now, but I don't know these people very well, and if things get shady, I have confidence in my own skills to make it some how. We will be following 101 north through Healdsburg, and go from there.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Flock of Seagulls, "I Ran"

October 5th, 2006  
North of Healdsburg, Ca.

We slipped out last night around 8 o'clock or so, a light drizzle was coming down, and I don't know if it was just heavy coastal fog, or the beginning of the rains of winter. Either way, it aided our escape, at least that's how I've come to think of it now. About three hours into our trek, there was a roar from behind us, like a Barry Bonds homerun in a stadium that held a million people. The fog strobed from the flashes of light, and the popping of small arms fire was mixed in later with the bass accompaniment of larger weapons being used. There were armed convoys using the freeway, and moving south at reckless speeds, and we kind of skulked off to the side whenever one flashed past us. Apparently the barbed wire was designed to keep people in.

There were a lot of abandoned vehicles alongside the road as we walked, and after I passed the third one, I realized there might be stuff in them that we could use. No one had checked any of these vehicles yet! So, I started smashing windows as we walked past each one, the first time I did it, I scared Carlita half to death, and the baby started crying, she shot me an accusatory look and took her off to the side to calm her down. Everyone else was really shocked as well. We all had been pretty much law abiding citizens up until this point, and the willful property damage kind of scared them a little. When I explained what I was doing though, everyone kind of nodded their heads in agreement. The first car had a National Rand McNally Road Atlas, which I grabbed from the trunk, and stuffed into my small bag. Other cars yielded scissors, small flashlights, a couple bags of chips, a bottle of water or soda here and there, a pocketknife, some playing cards, a couple of road flares, and a small first aid kit. I also scored a better bag than the one I had been carrying, I was about to leave mine behind and take the new one, and then I folded it up and stuck it in the bigger bag.

All told, we walked for about 8 hours last night, vandalizing every car we found along the way, and that's how we got to be north of Healdsburg late last night. We made a quiet camp off the freeway, and that's where I took a small inventory of my personal possessions. I have two blankets that I took from the camp, a pocket knife, some food I had been hoarding, but that will be gone soon. A light jacket, good shoes on, a deck of cards in my back pocket, 2 books of matches from Cache Creek Casino that I found in one car, my new and old bag, and my journal, along with two bottles of water. And my prize, the Rand McNally Road Atlas!!!

The first aid kit has to be considered community property and the flashlights as well. But everyone basically ended up with two bottles of fluid apiece, some snacks which we divided up, assorted cigarette lighters, and Brian for some unknown reason took a binder full of some guy's cds! When I asked him about it, he just smiled a little, and said, "Hey man, there's some good stuff here!" We both laughed when I asked him how he was going to play them. I have to go now, there is a truck coming from the south.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Oingo Boingo, "It's Just Another Day"

October 5th (continued)  
Back of Frank's pickup truck.

The truck that was coming was owned by a guy named Frank. I liked him immediately, he is an ex-cop from Marin County, and he is on his way to Calistoga. He said that things are a mess further south, apparently the people in the camp started to riot when they started putting the barbed wire up(Like I figured), and the troops in charge had started off with riot control tactics, but apparently things got out of control rather quickly, and they had to switch to other tactics. Those other tactics included reinforcements, small arms, and heavier weapons. Santa Rosa is a mess. Everyone that made it out of the camp headed south, and residents of the city, National Guard troops, and evacuees are apparently shooting it out in the streets.  
It's bumpy back here, so I can't write for long. I'm looking forward to Calistoga, and the free ride really helps.

Well, we made it to Calistoga. You know, it's funny, before all of this happened, I would hear the name Calistoga, and I would think "DRINKING WATER," it's funny how a product name, and a place can become one and the same in your mind. I'm actually kind of hoping that they have some of that water around. All the smoke in the air, the rugged terrain, the nonstop tension, taking into consideration the needs, and individual strengths of my traveling companions, heck, a guy can get pretty thirsty. Not to mention how out of shape I am. You kid yourself for awhile, thinking that you are still as good as you used to be. You say things like, "I'm still in pretty good shape considering..." I'll tell you what, a few months of traveling this way, and I'm going to be ripped.

Calistoga's not so bad; I managed to get some stuff here. More water, multivitamins, some instant soups and bouillon cubes. In fact, everyone managed to get a little more than they had coming into town. I won a nice hat off a guy playing some poker, it's a Columbia floppy hat, with a snap brim on it, that is going to save my balding head some sunburn pain, I'll tell ya! To be honest, I think that we are some of the first people from further south to go through here, but you know that there are going to be more. No one has any news here either. I think timing is going to be everything; we need to stay ahead of the waves of people that are going to be looking for somewhere safe to go. Frank has offered to put us up for the night, and everyone is grateful for a place to crash that is safe and warm (for now).

October 15th.  
Winters, California

We've had to stop for a few days. So, I thought I would catch up on my journal a bit. The baby, Anna, is sick, and there is a pediatrician here in Winters that seems to be having some luck treating her. I didn't understand all the details when Kyle was explaining what was wrong with her, but apparently it could have gotten pretty serious if it wasn't treated. Some kind of lung infection. Getting further away from the north Bay area seems to have taken a lot of tension out of the air, and things seem at least on the surface a little more normal the farther away we get. We have hitch hiked a few times, and guys with older model trucks have given us a lift, a ride in the back, even if it was only for a few miles. Still, and all, there is a quiet desperation in the air. People just want to know what is going on, and no one is talking. The doctor seemed worried when he was treating the baby, and I heard a few nurses talking in low voices about there being a lack of supplies already. I am going to have to be on the lookout for more 1st aid supplies, something tells me they will be worth their weight in gold.

We are about 20 miles from Sacramento here in Winters, and there is a rumor that the new President is here in town. I would imagine that he is surveying the damage to ask Congressional support for money to rebuild. He's probably being seen, and looking confident, like presidents are supposed to. They also say that there is talk of setting Sacramento up to be the nation's new capitol, but that makes zero sense to me. This state just got hit hard, and if the rumors about L.A. are true, then the west coast is in shambles right now. D.C. has been our capital for a long time. Unless, D.C. is gone too. That would really suck. It would also mean that my thoughts on this just being a localized problem are completely wrong too. I had hoped that once I got out of the greater Bay area and California all together for that matter, that I would find some normalcy. Help, and a fast ticket home on a Greyhound bus! That looks like it's not going to be the case at all. Still, New York would be a better choice for a capitol, Chicago, Philly, Atlanta, even Omaha, or St. Louis!! Why would anyone want to take a city with half a million people and turn it into the nation's capitol? It doesn't make sense!

I've had to think about this for a little while, write and think. What if, all the major cities are gone? If this was all out nuclear war, for starters, I think that things would be a lot worse. There would be zero infrastructures left at all. Much less the resources to put people in camps. There is another camp outside of Sacramento apparently. But, assuming the worst, we went to war with another nuclear power, and if that's the case, there has been a ceasefire, or it's over (for now), there will be very few usable resources to help the common people. Most of the priority support would most likely be going to the military, or FEMA. The government hasn't made a statement, because they are underground, dead, or hiding. That explains why no one knows anything outside of military channels. If this line of thought holds water, then my window of getting over the Sierras, and the Rockies, has just narrowed significantly, before full on winter sets in. I am seriously having to reevaluate this situation. I am moving too slowly if this is true. I have got to get over the Rockies, otherwise I will have to wait until spring, and judging by the way things have been going so far in this state, it could be a fatal mistake. I don't want to leave my traveling companions behind, there is safety in numbers, but I don't want to be stuck here either. I will have to sleep on this tonight, and decide in the morning.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Fleetwood Mac, "Go Your Own Way"

October 16th, 2006.  
Winters Ca.

We lost the baby last night. She was such a neat little kid, and so very, very smart. Kyle is absolutely devastated. Apparently she just stopped breathing, and no one could do anything to bring her back. Carlita has been holding her since early this morning, and I have to say, that I don't know what to say. "I'm sorry," doesn't really say enough, and anything else just sounds empty and hollow. Maybe saying nothing at all is the best thing to do sometimes.  
I know that they are Catholic, and when Kyle told me what happened, I walked down to the little Catholic Church, and got the local priest. He has been talking to them both since early this morning in a low voice. I want to give them their privacy in their moment of grief.

Ben and Becky, and Brian are ready to move on. They feel badly for the Myers, but they have places to go as well. I don't know what to do, I feel that leaving right now would be another example of people just tuning out and forgetting about those in need. Nature, and time however, are working against me, I think I can only afford to spend another day here.

The Webbs are moving on, I tried to talk them out of it, but they aren't having it. Now, I need to make a decision. I like both sets of people, and I feel that we need to stay together as a group. It has been working this way, we can sleep at night, knowing that someone is always awake and watching. I trust them. I think that they trust me, and although our friendship has been short term, the intensity of everything the last few weeks has made me feel closer to these people than most friends I've ever had. It's not right to put pressure on Kyle and Carlita to leave yet, it's not right, and it's not fair. Father Mike, the priest, says they'll have a little funeral for the baby tomorrow, and then I assume they'll want to move on a day or two after that. If I stay, I think it will be me, Kyle, and Carlita, good people, but very emotional right now, and unstable people do things that are risky, but I feel that they need someone right now.

If I go with the Webbs, there will be four of us, and it feels cold, but I think I may have a better chance of survival with them. I NEED to get home, and I have the feeling that this decision will not be the first difficult one I have to face in the coming weeks ahead.

I hate myself. I have decided to go with the Webbs, my emotions say stay, and help, but my brain says that logically 4 people stand a better chance than 3. I have two mountain ranges to cross before real winter sets in, and the passes may become blocked, something tells me snow removal isn't in the budget this year. The Webbs' willingness to leave two of our own behind really bothers me however, and I can't help but wonder if I was lying beside the road with a broken leg, if they wouldn't leave me in a heartbeat as well. It kind of reminds me of the old saying, "I don't have to outrun the bear...I just have to outrun you."

We will be leaving just after nightfall, and I have to grab a bite to eat, and maybe two hours of sleep while I can.

October 16th  
(still in Winters)

After I woke up from my nap, I walked across the gymnasium to where Kyle and Carlita had been sleeping. Carlita was staring off into space, and Kyle looked up from his cot, where he had been sitting and holding her hand. "We're going to be leaving soon." I told him. And his eyes were bleak as he looked at me, and said, "I know."  
Carlita dropped his hand and rolled over on her cot, facing away from me.

I glanced over to where the Webbs were standing, looking impatient. "Goodbye, and good luck Kyle." I said, and we shook hands. I took about three steps towards the people at the door, and I realized that I couldn't do it. All of my misgivings about these virtual strangers that I knew so well, came flooding up into my brain, and I decided that spending a few more days in Winters to help people that needed helping wasn't going to kill me.

Feeling better about myself as a human being, I finished walking over to the Webbs, and told them that I was going to be staying a little while longer, that I wished them luck with wherever they were going, but I couldn't just turn my back on two people that I cared about. Becky just said, "Whatever, let's get going Ben." And all of them walked out the door. I didn't even wave goodbye. Turning, and walking back over to the Myers, I was whistling a little tune under my breath, and as I sat on the cot next to Kyle I said, "I decided to stay in Winters a few more days, I'm a little tired from all the walking."

Kyle just looked at me and said, "I know."

October 17th, 2006  
Winters, Ca.

I attended a small funeral this morning, at a very small grave, but I feel as though a large part of people's lives has suddenly gone missing. The rains have started appropriately enough, and in the early morning, Father Mike gave a nice eulogy for a little girl that will never grow up. Kyle and Carlita were remarkably composed throughout the sermon, but I have the feeling that they will need some time to grieve, but they will do it privately, I think it's their way. After they left, I pulled the good Father Mike aside, and I asked him if he thought that things will be okay. "For them? Or for all of us? I have been struggling with my faith these last few weeks." he said. "I don't know how many more like this I have in me."

I looked at him for a minute, and I said, "As many as you have to." I had done some gambling the night before, and managed to leave the table with a little more than I had gone in with, one of those things was a flask full of brandy. I opened it now and offered it to him. Father Mike accepted gratefully, and for a moment, we stood in the rain, by a small grave, and drank some brandy, and then we moved on.

October 21st  
Winters, Ca.

Today dawned bright and cheery, the pregnant storm clouds of the last few days have moved on east, and they are on their way over the Sierras like I hope to be soon. The last few days have been rough for Kyle and Carlita, but I think they may be ready to travel again by tonight. I have heard them for the last few nights, crying quietly, but last night I think exhaustion finally caught up to them, and they slept like the dead.

I took them some coffee this morning just as they were waking up, and Kyle said, "My hero." Carlita nodded her thanks as well, and at least drank hers today. I am optimistic that today will be the day that we move forward.

I have spent the last few days with my road atlas, talking to the locals, and pinpointing where the refugee camp is exactly located, we don't after all want to end up in another one of those. Apparently there are also large concentrations of troops in temporary bases around Sacramento, and so far, I have been able to get them marked as well. Soldiers have passed through Winters since we've been here, but they don't stop, and they have been intent on getting to wherever it is that they are going. I plan to sit down with Kyle a little later this afternoon, and maybe hash out a possible route to get to their cabin in the Sierras.

It looks like our best bet(and the fastest way) is to take County Road 31 to Davis, and from there, we can get back on I-80 and head towards Sacramento. We're thinking that if we travel at night, and keep a low profile, we can avoid the whole camp system.

Father Mike showed up a little while ago and invited us to dinner. Needless to say we all accepted. He's going to be making spaghetti and meatballs, with homemade garlic bread! We haven't had fresh bread in a few weeks, and my mouth is watering at the thought of it.

Oh wow, am I full! It's tempting to spend the night in the gymnasium again, and sleep off that dinner! But I think that if we go right away, the ball will be rolling again, and we'll be moving towards something. Father Mike has given us his blessing, and even though I'm not Catholic, I feel a little better about things. It seems that his crisis of faith is passed, and he told me that he was ready to "do what he needed to do."

We will be leaving in a few minutes, and a few folks have come to see us off. I will have mixed feelings about Winters, some good and some bad. The good ones come from feeling that I have done the right thing by standing by people that needed me, and making a few new friends, the bad ones, well the bad ones have already been written about, so there's no reason to go over them again. I'm going home.

October 24th, 2006  
Davis, Ca.

There have been a few jets that we've seen flying today. That's a good sign. The University seems to be doing all right, they've organized fairly well here, and there is some news. Some of it still has the sound of rumor to me. There is a new president, but how he became president is still a little weird. Apparently Seattle, San Francisco, and L.A., and Phoenix were definitely hit. There was apparently another blast in Utah as well. It kind of makes me wonder if Kim Jong Il, and the North Koreans finally got their act together and made a missile that could strike the continental U.S. It's pretty scary, this is indeed a much larger crisis, than I had initially believed. I mean, I was HOPING that this would be limited in scope, but I was wrong.

The power is on here, and we got to take hot showers, eat a hot meal, and do some laundry. The internet stayed up for a short time after the attacks, and so a lot of the students here were able to contact folks on the outside, but then most servers crashed, probably due to localized power outages.

We will again be moving on at nightfall, back on I-80 towards Sacramento. It's the straightest, fastest way towards where we are going. Kyle and Carlita are doing much better, but it seems that the goal of getting somewhere short term is what they are clinging to. But they are sane, and calm, and willing to keep going.

I picked up a few more useful things here, some fruit, and a better jacket, I'll write more later, after I update my atlas.

October 25th 2006  
Clay California.

Something HUGE has happened. We left Davis last night, and were following I-80 towards Sacramento. We had been walking for perhaps 3 hours, when someone stepped into the road, and told us to stop where we were. We had walked right into a military checkpoint. With a sinking feeling we stopped walking. Soldiers came out and checked that we had no weapons, and we were escorted another few miles up the road, where we were put on a truck and told to wait. It was too dark to write, so I just left everything packed in my bag. We spent the rest of the night on the truck, and by ones and twos, more people joined us. When the truck was full, around 8:00 am. We started to roll east. I was able to sit near the back, and I was watching what was going on outside the truck.

The entire city is being reinforced it seems, there were soldiers everywhere, and the activity was nonstop, but organized in a way that I haven't seen elsewhere. Traffic on the roads was nonstop as well, and we were moving along at a crawl all day. I think that maybe they were planning on taking us to the camp that was marked on my atlas, but it seemed like we were no sooner pulling into an open area where there were a lot of other trucks full of people, than an MP was waving the driver forward, and back out the gate.

It seems that we were being taken to another camp just north of the town of Galt. It is a new camp, as the one that we had just left is pretty full. We spent all day just getting through Sacramento and out the other side. It was late evening when it happened. It was dark, and I was a bit drowsy, and then the whole sky went from pitch black with a few stars to daylight blue for about 4 seconds! It looked like someone had set off another nuke in outer space! Then another one went off! The trucks died, the lights in Sacramento went out, and the soldier next to me was trying to read his watch in the dark. I handed him my matches, and he lit one, his watch said 7:02 P.M.

And then things were happening very quickly, a big guy used the distraction of the match to clobber that soldier! People were screaming, shots were being fired, and the Myers and I, well, we just ran off into the darkness, and didn't look back. That's how we have ended up in the town of Clay about six hours later. We're exhausted. And just as soon as I put the cap on my pen, I'm going to go to sleep.

October 26th, 2006  
Clay, Ca.

Kyle and I have been talking this morning. If he's right, we have about 100 miles to go to make it to their cabin at Lake Alpine. The locals here have been all abuzz about the two nuclear blasts in space last night. I can't help but wonder myself, what THAT was all about. The timing was about perfect for our needs though. We at least were able to avoid another stay in a camp, and the riding in the trucks helped us get a little closer to our destination. EMP, electromagnetic pulse, knocked out everything, cars, trucks, watches, electric mixers, communications, etc. I can't help but worry, thinking, is there another attack coming? WHO are we fighting against? Why hasn't the government said anything yet? What is going on? In a disaster book, or movie, set in a post apocalyptic future, it always seems to be set against the background of something that has already happened. It is very different while it IS happening. Those movies and books never fill us in on what it is like when a society is tearing itself apart. People are starting to die. I think a lot more will go during this winter. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if more people die in the aftermath of the attack, than in the attack itself. It has been slightly more than a month, and already people are starting to change. They seem to be hanging on to what they have a little tighter, slower to smile, and while not outright hostile yet, I think people are glad to see the backs of strangers as they're leaving town.

I will be so glad to get to the Myers' place up in the mountains. We all need a break. At that point however, I will be going on alone. It will be lonely and frightening. I have been around people constantly since September 19th; it will take some getting used to, to be by myself again. Well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

November 8th, 2006.  
Myer Cabin, near Lake Alpine.

Well, we made it here, and honestly, this place is amazing! The view is incredible! Kyle had been telling me about this place for the last month! I wasn't sure if I believed him or not. But there is running water, food, clothing, a fireplace, electricity (they have a generator), and more importantly, Kyle has a modest arsenal up here, two hunting rifles, enough ammunition for them to hunt with, and warm beds!

It is a two bedroom cabin, built out of weathered logs and native stone, but the inside is completely modern! They have a spring out back that has been capped to provide running water, a huge propane tank that is full, that's what the water heater and furnace run off of, the genny to provide electrical power, and Kyle's parents had always kept enough food on hand to feed an army for two weeks! With the two of them, they ought to be okay for a few months, at least until spring. There are fish in the lake, and they have the tackle to catch them, honestly, I'm a little envious. This place is also far enough off the beaten path, that only a few of the locals know it is here. Not that we've even seen any locals.

It started snowing two days ago, while we were still on the road, and the last two nights before we got here were cold ones. The three of us huddled together for warmth under our blankets, barely sleeping because it was so cold! Waking up in the morning, and shaking the snow off of our coverings, and ourselves. Cramping leg muscles from the cold ground! The relief of having someone help you work the cramps out!

That quick run behind a tree!!! Having to pee so bad you felt like you might burst! A quickly gobbled breakfast, and then back on the road again! It is exhausting traveling in snow! As it begins to pile up, each step gets harder to take. We had to take turns plowing a path so the others could follow. Sometimes I found myself just drowsing off on my feet, and had to stop and beat myself a little to get the blood moving again, jumping up and down, waking up and moving on.  
Kyle took the lead for the last couple of days; after all, it was their place we were going to. And finally, he said the words I had been hoping to hear for weeks now. "We're here."

I looked up from my quiet, internal misery, and beheld our savior. That beautiful, weathered looking little cabin. The first thing we did when we got inside was to start a fire, open the damper, stack the kindling, light the match, hope that it starts on the first one, listen to the moan of the wind in the darkness. Listening to the stillness of a place that has been shut up for a few months, that cool, still air inside, and that flutter near the walls, where you can almost feel the thud of the wind outside. And gradually, as the fire grows, the sense of warmth and light, and yes...life, returns to a shut up place. The warming of the interior. Kyle went to start the pilot light on the water heater, and the furnace when he turned on the propane, while I was lighting the fire. It will be hot showers tonight! Then a hot meal! And maybe some cards or a board game before we go to bed. I am looking forward to sleeping in a bed again!

November 9th, 2006.

I woke up this morning clean, and warm, and not really sure where I was. For a moment I just savored the fact that I was both. I yawned, and streeeeeetched, and wiggled my toes under the down comforter. Hazy sunshine was coming through the slatted blinds, and I could hear someone moving around beyond the closed door. Wow. Privacy. For the first time since September 20th, I was able to go to sleep in a room by myself, and sleep until I woke up, it makes quite a difference to your state of mind. Still yawning, I pulled my t-shirt on over my boxers, and poked my head out into the hallway. Kyle was walking towards my room with a bundle of clothes in his hands. "Here," he said, "These are some of the clothes that my dad used to keep here, and I think that they'll probably fit you."

I thanked him, closed the door, and tried them on, and everything fit. Sporting my new duds, I joined the Myers for breakfast, and we spent the morning talking, and enjoying the view out of the large window that looked down the mountainside towards the lake. It was a beautiful view, and the snow storm had dwindled to flurries, sweeping eastward. It was half sunny, and still snowing, and there was this very fey light, where individual beams of sunshine would wink on and off over the sides of the valley. In a word, it was beautiful.

We talked about my plans to get home, and they assured me that I could stay as long as I liked, as long as I was willing to help out. I told them that that really meant a lot to me. They told me, that it had meant a lot to them that I had stuck by them when the Webbs walked away. I have spent the afternoon sitting in an overstuffed chair by the fire, reading a book; they must have hundreds of books here! We've all been lazy today, but tomorrow we for sure have to work. Kyle and I talked about gathering wood, and hunting, maybe doing some fishing before the lake freezes solid. And he also wants to check up on the neighbors, although a lot of the places here are seasonal homes. He seemed to think that it would be okay to check the other homes out, and "borrow" stuff that we might need. If the owners came back, we could return it, but it would be better than letting a stranger get anything useful. I kind of teased him about how shocked they had all been at the first car window I had smashed back in Santa Rosa, and he very seriously informed me that times have definitely changed.

November 10th, 2006.  
Lake Alpine

Kyle and I went outside this morning for the first time since we arrived, and we were surprised to see bear tracks circling the house. Judging by the size of the prints, it's a BIG bear, maybe even a grizzly. Probably an old guy out for some final foraging before that long winters' nap. We spent the morning taking down a few dead trees at the edge of their property with the chainsaw. We will probably have to finish that little project up tomorrow, we dropped them, and cut them into manageable size logs, but they still need to be split and stacked.

Carlita had been busy inside taking inventory of the food, medicine, blankets, cleaning supplies, and stuff. She cheerfully informed us, that with a small breakfast, and one big meal a day, there was enough for the three of us for the next 4 months! She was practically dancing at the idea of it. These funny moods have been rare the last few weeks, and it was nice to see her in such a great mood. Not only that, but with fishing, hunting, and maybe what we find in the other homes it could stretch even longer. I looked at Kyle and said, "You know, there's a lot of meat on a bear." Kyle kind of rolled his eyes. Carlita said, "YOUGUYSSAWABEAR?!?!?!" Kyle told her we just saw the tracks. Apparently Carlita feels a little more comfortable in an urban environment, and bears scare her half to death.

After a large midday meal, Kyle has loaded the handgun to leave with Carlita, and he and I each took a rifle. We've decided to check out some of the closest homes to ours. Kyle knows the people that live in each one, and if they aren't there, he knows where the keys are located. The two closest neighbors actually lived in San Francisco, so the odds of them making it up here are most likely, pretty slim. We will hit these homes first, check them out, and then venture a little further, odds are there is gonna be stuff we can use.

Well, we walked the whole dirt road, from one end to the other, and it doesn't look like anyone is up here, at all. We saw all kinds of tracks in the snow as well, deer, elk, raccoon, and some others that were kind of smudged. I think the hunting will be good, if we get on it right away. No vehicle tracks however, and right now, the way that we all feel about people, I'm thinking that's a good thing. We took inventory in 3 houses, all with spectacular views, and tons of stuff that we can use! Tomorrow, we will start to haul it all over. I have to go, apparently Carlita is going to "school" Kyle in a game of Trivial Pursuit, and they're waving me over.

November 14th,

The last four days have been hectic, we discussed strategy the day after our scouting trip, and we decided that we needed to raid the neighboring homes first, and as we were walking out to the end of the driveway Carlita opened the garage, and there was the ugliest, most beautiful, old International pickup, I've ever seen! It was pink with white trim, battered, rusted, and I asked Kyle, "Does it run?" He shook his head no, and then he said, "But we have all the parts! Dad and I were fixing it up last year before he had his stroke. That's actually something that I was going to ask you to help me with." THAT TRUCK, if we can get it working, will be a godsend.

We spent the last four days taking stuff. Breaking and entering is kind of fun when you don't have the fear of being arrested for it! We had made a list in order of importance, food, medical supplies, and weapons first, tools, blankets and clothing second (warm weather gear in particular), anything tradable third, and then recreational stuff, books, board games, etc.  
We went to the farthest home first, this was one of the ones Kyle didn't have a key to, and he looked at me, picked up a big rock, and threw it through the decorative glass on the front door. When I looked down at where the rock had been, I elbowed him in the ribs and said, "Why didn't you just use the key?" We fell over, we were laughing so hard. "Nice to see you boys working so hard," Carlita drawled from behind us, Kyle winked at me and we went on in. This first home had a lot of dry goods, pasta, canned goods, and it had been owned by people with good taste, we got all kinds of down filled bedding, Hudson Bay blankets, books, and the medicine cabinet and bathroom drawers had been full of all kinds of over the counter drugs.

We were about to leave (with Kyle mooning over the 12 pack of beer in his hands) and Carlita said "Hold it! I just thought of something!" She ran back into the house and came back with 3 rolls of toilet paper. Kyle raised his eyebrows at her, and she shot back, "You guys can go standing up! We gals sit down most of the time!" And after that we took every roll of toilet paper we could find! To carry all this plunder we had to drag it on a travois that we had made from an old tarp, and some of the longer logs cut from the day before. And it worked...kind of, but we got better at it as the day went on.

Every house had a little something we could use, whether it was tools, hardware (nuts bolts, screws type stuff), food, clothing, bedding, medicines, we did all right. I even scored a black powder rifle, flints, powder, and horns to carry it in, as well as a pouch full of tools to maintain it. It's a single shot, modern reproduction of an antique Kentucky rifle, and it is a beautiful thing to behold, the bore is bright, and well maintained, and the wedge keys that secure the barrel to the stock are shaped like small silver trout. The ball bag held about fifty balls, and I found the lead mould, and some ingots of lead in the garage, so I can make more, if I need to. All told though we did excellently, and we salvaged 12 homes' worth of stuff! Of course it's going to be a little hard to explain if the owners show up, but, we all feel that the odds of that with the camps, the winter, and the imp, they're pretty slim. Carlita has been keeping track of everything as it has come in, and she informed us this evening in mock serious tones, that she will have enough toilet paper until May!

We all laughed. The food situation is good, we have lots of reading material, winter clothes, and we'll be warm. It was nice to get rid of the clothes we were given in the camps as well! Tomorrow, Kyle and I will finish our wood chopping in the morning, and try to get some hunting in. Dinner's ready! I've got to go!

November 15th, 2006

Kyle and I got up early this morning to cut up the rest of the logs, and we spent the morning with a sledge and a wedge, splitting and stacking it all. All together I'd say they will have enough firewood to last until late spring.  
We saw our first sign of people today as well, on the north end of the lake I spotted the "V" shape of a small boats' wake in the water. It looked like he (or she) was traveling from the marina, across to a small cabin on the north side. We may have to go over and say hellos, but on foot, that could take hours to get there.

We went hunting this afternoon, and although we saw a lot of sign, we didn't see any deer. We did however, see more bear tracks. The last thing we want to do, all kidding aside is to mess with an adult grizzly. They'll come after you if you just injure them, and the sheer bulk of them makes a killing 1st shot kind of a rarity. We were quiet on our walk back to the house. It is beautiful up here, there's almost a crystalline stillness to the air at sunset, and flocks of geese have been flying overhead, going for a warmer climate I guess.

Kyle and Carlita are well supplied, we got the wood laid in, and I'm gonna help with his truck, maybe we can get it running. I'm starting to think of my family though, and I guess I'm getting itchy feet. I think that I will stay with them through Thanksgiving, and then continue on my way. The thought of it makes me cringe a little inside though. To be truly alone, and facing the greatest challenge of my life, it inspires feelings of doubt, but at the same time, a growing feeling of excitement as well. I have always thought to myself, that if the opportunity existed, that I would have done as the early settlers did, and gone westwards in search of a better life. This, I suppose is my chance to put my money where my mouth is, and give it a try. Admittedly, there will be roads to travel (which those settlers didn't have), but I think in its own way, things will be just as dangerous. My mom used to tell me about guys in the 60's that would hitch hike across America to "find themselves" and to see the "real America." Something tells me that is what is going to be in store for me. I'm going to see the real America, stripped of all pretensions, unmasked by tragedy, and its people at their best and worst. Or, maybe I'll be surprised; maybe I'll get over the Rockies and find that Greyhound bus waiting, that fast ticket home. I'll walk in the front door, my parents will be watching television, shaking their heads, and turning the channel. It's nice to think about, but I don't think that is the way it's going to be.

November 17th, 2006

Kyle and I went hunting again this morning, and we got ourselves a bear! We were down a ways from the house, probably about 4 miles or so, almost to the main road before the turn off to the road marked "private drive" that the cabin is on. We had been in the tree stand that we built yesterday, waiting for some unlucky deer to cross our path. From the main road, probably another half mile or so away from us, we heard a couple of shots, and someone screaming. Then the unmistakable roar of a grizzly. I looked at Kyle and said, "What do you think? Should we go see?" And he agreed that we should.  
When we got to the road we saw quite a mess! There was a VERY BIG BEAR swatting, and chasing, and chewing on someone. In a word, she was getting mauled! Kyle and I shot together, there was no time for her to get clear, I shot it three times, and I think Kyle hit it at least four. It distracted the hell out of it at any rate! I was using a 30.06, and Kyle had a 30/30! It was almost funny at first, the bear biting at the bullets, unable to figure out where they were coming from! Then he saw us! And charged! Kyle pushed me to one side, and said "Split up! and KEEP SHOOTING IT!" So...we split up and kept shooting it! The bear gave a final, horrible growl/gurgle/sigh and slid into the closest tree.

The person in the road wasn't moving, and she was lying in a disjointed heap near the far side of the road. Kyle, had just sat down in the road, staring at the bear, so, I ran over to where she was. I turned her over, and felt for a pulse. God! There was blood everywhere. The snow was pink and crimson, and churned up here! Bloodsicle! Blood snow cone anyone? Humor, for some reason allows me to think under extreme stress, otherwise I'd puke. So, it's always been better for me to crack a joke for now, and go to pieces later. She was alive, and breathing. There were no ambulances, and no 1st aid guide for bear attacks in a post nuclear winter. I know you're not supposed to move a victim from a car crash unless you have no other options, you might do them further injury...so, I looked at Kyle, and in my cheeriest tone of voice possible, said, "You done looking at the bear?" He blinked once and shook his head, "Yeah." he said.

"She's alive, but I'm not sure for how much longer! We're gonna have to move her! Carry my rifle!" I said.  
Kyle came over and grabbed my rifle, and I picked her up in a fireman's carry. I nodded at the bear, "See? I told you there was a lot of meat on the bear!" and I laughed, and we started up the hill, 4 and a half miles up hill through the woods slipping on snowy/icy patches, with a stranger on my shoulders! It's a good thing she was light! As it was I was thoroughly out of breath by the time we got to the cabin.

Carlita initially kind of strolled into the front room when she heard us get back, the beginning of some flippant comment like, "So, did you guys manage to kill Bambi today?" and then she went white as a sheet. I couldn't talk, and could barely manage to croak out, "Help...her."

Kyle explained what had happened as I stumbled into the kitchen to get some water, and Carlita knelt down beside the victim. She quickly and competently checked for a pulse, thumbed up her eyelids, and rapidly took charge of the situation. She was looking at lacerations and bite marks, and the large bruise on the side of her head. A flap of skin had torn on her scalp, and was flapping over her right eye. I felt a little ill. Carlita looked at us, and said, "Okay, she's out cold, and we need to clean her up and warm her up, and THAT is going to need a BUNCH of stitches." Pointing at her torn scalp. "I think her shoulder is dislocated as well."I looked at Kyle, and Kyle shrugged and said, "She was an EMT." I realized at that point that I had never asked what either of them had done for a living. Up until now it hadn't seemed all that important.  
Carlita slapped her hands sharply, "GENTLEMEN! I need the first aid supplies, washcloths, a turkey baster, hot water, rubbing alcohol..." The list ended with needles and thread.

Carlita undressed her in the living room, set me to work boiling thread, and needles for stitches, boiling more water to bathe the blood off, and she used the turkey baster to irrigate the puncture wounds from the bears' teeth. After about three hours, Carlita had her cleaned up, stitched up, warmed up, and in my bed sleeping fitfully. I guess I'm on the couch from here on out. But that's okay. I think we saved a life today. We also have a few antibiotics from all the house raiding we did, hopefully enough to avoid infection.

I had been covered in the girls' blood, and I gratefully took a hot shower when we were sure that Carlita had everything she needed. I am going to feel this tomorrow for sure! Carlita washed up after me, and then the three of us had a quiet dinner.  
The absolute capper for the evening was when Carlita looked at Kyle with a glint in her eye and said, "You know what this place needs?"  
Kyle said "What?"  
"A BEARSKIN RUG!"  
We all thought that was pretty funny.

November 17th (much, much later)

Carly wasn't kidding. After our meal, she made me and Kyle go back down the mountain to get the bear. We field dressed it, cut as much meat off of it as we could drag on the travois, wrapped it all up in the skin, and carried it all back up to the house. As an after thought, I pulled some of the teeth out of the skull as well. I thought they might make good pendants! The whole process took another 6 hours. Kyle and I have showered (again). We're going to be leaving it all in the garage tonight, it's about 27 degrees outside right now, so it ought to be fine, and tomorrow we begin smoking bear meat in the smoker, cutting it up into manageable portions, making jerky, etc. And I think we'll even have a bear-b-que! Sorry, I just couldn't resist.  
In the cabin where we found the Kentucky rifle, the guy that had lived there had a whole library of books on tanning hides, and mountain man skills, including the Book of Buckskinning volumes 1-9! So, we'll probably try to tan the hide as well, so Carly can have her bearskin rug.

Our unexpected guest hasn't come out of it yet, she's still dead to the world and sleeping. Kyle and I followed her back trail a little ways and found a small pack, and a .22 rifle. That girl took on a Grizzly with a .22 rifle! She's either really brave, or just didn't know any better. Carly says that she is really sleeping now, and not just knocked out. Apparently that is a step in the right direction. She was lucky to be unconscious! Carly put 32 stitches into her scalp, another 16 assorted stitches into her mid rift area, and I'm sure it would have REALLY hurt if she'd been awake for the irrigating of the puncture wounds. The clothes she had on were completely destroyed, but with all of the looking around we did day before yesterday, we ought to be able to replace them. Her face is a spectacular array of bruises, scratches, and cuts. It's amazing that she's even alive.  
I will begin reading the book on tanning hides tonight before I fall asleep, but I don't know how far into it I'll get. Kyle already fell asleep twice before Carly told him to go to bed! I'm wiped out too. Carly is going to stay up with our new friend, and sleep in there with her until she wakes up.

November 18th.

Carly woke me up this morning by waving hot coffee under my nose! I am so stiff and sore! I'm not old yet, but I'll tell ya, I'm starting to feel the mileage a little. She sat next to me on the couch as I took the first sip, and said, "You guys did a good thing yesterday Ray." That really meant a lot to me, but close scrutiny and attention always embarrasses me a little, so I shrugged it off. Apparently Kyle was still asleep. The girl we found yesterday was still sleeping as well, but she had come around a little earlier this morning, and Carly said she was able to take some water and some pills before nodding off again. If I'm hurting, I can't imagine how she must be feeling.

Kyle came shuffling in a few minutes later, and said, "I smell coffee." He slouched into the kitchen yawning, to get some for himself. And we began to plan our day, the meat was going to be a priority, Kyle and I were gonna have to take care of that ourselves, Carly was going to have to stay close in case our guest needed some help.

I only got through about 2 pages of reading last night before I fell asleep, so I think the tanning process is going to be a "play it by ear" kind of thing. Kyle and I got dressed and headed out to the garage to start cutting up meat, and Carly fired up the smoker on the deck. We also set the oven on low, we will slow cook the thinner strips of meat for jerky, we have a lot of salt and pepper from our foraging, and we made kind of a briney solution to baste it with as it cooks. We are definitely going to have a bear-b-que today as well! Carly laughed out right when I mentioned it, and Kyle just groaned and rolled his eyes.  
We've got as much meat smoking, and cooking as possible right now, and while Kyle is grilling us some steaks outside, I've taken the time to draw out the plans for a rack to stretch the hide on. I think we can build one with a little borrowed lumber, the hardware, and the tools that we "borrowed".

After lunch today, (which was delicious) Kyle and I built the frame for the bear hide to stretch on, we unrolled the hide, and secured it to the rack with some pretty stout twine, and when it is stretched out it is massive! Their rug will be 9' X 7', and I think Carly was right, if we can tan it properly, it will make a great rug for in front of the fireplace. I will most likely be gone before that is finished though.

Tomorrow, we will start working on Kyle's truck!

November 19th

Kyle and I worked on the truck this morning, we spent probably five hours working on the engine, and he does have all the parts! I felt like a mad scientist, with manuals all around us, checking and double checking gaskets, tightening bolts to higher levels of torque, and exploring the mysteries of the chemical combustion engine. We have set up a small crane/winch thing that we will use to lift the engine into the front end of the truck. We'll probably work on that later this afternoon. Then it's just a matter of securing it inside the truck, checking/connecting hoses, putting in oil and some gas, lubing her up, and then, fingers crossed we'll try to start it up.

After we broke for lunch, Carly told us that our guest was awake and aware of her surroundings, but still super weak. She can speak, and her name is Margaret. It will still be a few days however, before she is up and around again. Carly encouraged us to introduce ourselves at some point today, and to encourage her to get better.  
I am finding myself feeling a little shy. I can't explain it. I am so vocal, and outgoing with people that I know. I speak my mind, I feel comfortable, and I always have a million things to talk about. Throw a new person into the mix, and I get reserved, and quiet, and shy. I guess it takes me a while to get to know people, and make up my mind about them. I wasn't always this way, when I was younger it seemed like I made friends at the drop of a hat, but a lot of those friends didn't really work out so hot. I guess it's more about quality these days, then quantity. Another reason I'm nervous I guess, is that old saying, that "once you save someone's life, you are responsible for it." I'm pretty sure that is just superstition talking, but you never know. At any rate, I'm a little nervous to meet Margaret. Maybe later.

Well, we got the truck to turn over! It took about 4 tries, but it coughed, blew a lot of smoke back into the garage, and then settled down into a steady rumble. We had to go on a gasoline hunt to find enough to fuel it up, we emptied seven lawn mowers, two boat engines, a leaf blower, one of the neighbors' cars that was in their garage(it wouldn't start, we tried), and a rototiller. We almost got a full tank of gas out of it too! Kyle and I were dancing around the garage! I wish we would have had this to haul the bear up in, but what can you do? Carly came out and joined us, and Kyle remembered the beer! We each one of us had one to celebrate.

Well, I met Margaret. She seems pretty quiet too. I asked her where she was from, and she says Portland, Oregon, and I told her that I had lived up that way once upon a time. Longview, Washington to be exact, just north of Portland. We made some small talk for a little while, and I saw her eyes starting to drift shut again, so I let her get some sleep. She seems nice though.

I joined Kyle and Carly in the front room for some cribbage after talking to Margaret. Two people would play, and the third would read. I started reading one of the Book of Buckskinning books and couldn't put it down. Carly thumped me on the head and said "Your turn!" to play Kyle, and I waved her off. Kyle is about unbeatable at cribbage anyway. So they settled in for another game. I kind of laughed when Kyle pulled a 23 hand on the first round. I looked at Carly and said, "That could've been me!" She stuck her tongue out at me, and then proceeded to whip Kyle for the rest of the game. I have my suspicions that they both know how to stack the deck! Maybe when Margaret gets a little better I can teach them to play Euchre. You need four to play that game, and it's a little harder to cheat.

November 24th  
Thanksgiving

It's been a few days since I've written anything, because we have been so busy! It's snowing again today, so we're taking the day off, and it is Thanksgiving! For us at least. It is amazing how much has to be done, when you only have yourselves to count on! We have been hunting for a couple of days now, and I got a deer yesterday! Kyle took a cow elk the day before. This morning we got two geese that were flying low overhead and honking. The flock hadn't quite made it into their V formation yet, and I just kind of fired where they were thickest! I have been playing with the Kentucky rifle a little bit, and had loaded it with shot this morning instead of the round balls I've been shooting. Kyle, just to be safe took out the 30.06, just in case.

So, we have geese for Thanksgiving dinner, Carly has learned how to make some pretty mean biscuits, we have instant mashed potatoes and gravy, canned corn, canned cranberry sauce, and we figure that will be enough. It's probably more than most folks have right now, and we are thankful in the extreme.

Margaret, or "My friends call me Maggie." Has been walking around for the last two days. We have all been polite, but there are still a lot of walls up. It is just going to take time for everyone to get used to each other.

I am thankful this Thanksgiving day for being alive, for having good friends to share it with, to have enough(and then some) to eat, and for being safe in this great place. Initially my plans had been to move on in the next few days, but I am reconsidering, and feeling a little guilty for doing so. I have no way of knowing if my family is alive or dead back in Illinois, and initially my plans for going home were twofold, get someplace safe, and surround myself with people that I knew I would be able to count on. That being said, I have accomplished both goals. I think it is just the holiday speaking, I have always missed people around the holidays, I just wish there was some way to have both. I'm a little frustrated too; I don't have the words right now to truly explain the conflict inside of me. I have made it as far as the Sierras, but I am still in California, I still need to get across the desert in Nevada, and over the Rockies. It will be weeks before Maggie is ready to travel again, and she is heading for Missouri, where her family is, so, for a time at least, we could travel together, it would be much safer that way. I will wait a few more weeks before leaving, at least until she's back on her feet all the way.

Dinner was fantastic! Those geese were delicious! There are even leftovers! I taught everyone how to play Euchre tonight as well, and I think it's going to be a nightly thing. I'm waiting for everyone to get good at it before I start stacking the deck, I have about 600 games of cribbage to make up for, those guys better watch out!

Musical suggestion for this segment: General Public, "Tenderness"

December 1st, 2006.

Winter has set in for real. Like squirrels we have hoarded away our food supply for the winter, and life is pretty good. If I didn't end up going any farther than this it would be okay. I can't shake the disquieting sense that I need to move on though. Maggie has been getting stronger for the last week or so, and every day, she and I take a walk to the end of the lane and back. I have gotten to know her a little bit better in the last few days, and there is tragedy written there, right behind her eyes. The bruises have faded a bit, and Carly says the stitches can come out soon. Maggie was very lucky to have avoided any major infection and is actually lucky to be alive. I am still amazed that the bear didn't kill her. I drilled out those teeth that I took the day we killed it, and I made four pendants from the incisors. I gave Maggie hers first, and told her it was from the bear that almost got her. She didn't say much about it, just held it in her hand for a minute, and then slipped the thong over her neck.

She is really an attractive woman. She's about 5'6", brown hair, brown eyes, and honestly, way out of my league. But now that I think about it, most of the women I have dated have been way out of my league. I kind of laugh when I think about that, "No one ever asks the pretty girls to dance." That's what one of my friends from high school used to say all the time. She was an absolute knockout, and she was right, guys were always intimidated. It wouldn't be right to try anything with her though, it just doesn't seem right for some reason. She has an edginess I like though, and if I'm not careful, this crush could hurt a little.  
The other thing is, we spend a lot of time together, a lot of the time not speaking, but working on things, and it's pretty cool what a team player she is. She is not afraid to work that's for sure. Kyle and Carly have begun exchanging those knowing glances when we go for our walk every day, and I HATE that! I'm going to have to set them straight soon. It's not so much grrrrrr...it's just that when I want something I want to get it on my own, and I can't stand the thought of being set up, or public pressure to do things that I want to do anyway. Sometimes public pressure can take a good thing and make it not work out. That's all. I don't know how many times I've met a nice girl, gone out on a few dates, and then have it get ruined by friends that were, "just trying to help." I'm going to go work on the bear skin a little while.

December 6th, 2006.

I went for a walk with Maggie yesterday that was a little different than all of the others. We were walking uphill through some light snow that was ghosting down between the trees. And Maggie said "So,... I understand you carried me four and a half miles uphill through the snow, and essentially saved my life." She had stopped walking, and her cheeks were flushed from the exertion and the cold, and standing there with the trees behind her, downy flakes of snow in her hair, and the neck of a loose sweater sticking out of her coat collar, she looked beautiful. I said, "Yeah."

She took 3 steps forward, put her hands around my neck, and gave me a light kiss. I smiled at her and said, "You're welcome." She didn't step back, and she didn't take her arms from around my neck though. She just stood there, looking into my eyes, and I said, "Would it be too terribly out of line to kiss you again?" She said that would be great. And I kissed her again. This was a little more than a light brush of the lips though, and when we broke from that kiss, I was surprised to see that she had her back to a tree, and we were both a little out of breath. "I think I popped a few stitches!" She said, and we both laughed. We walked back to the cabin holding hands, and that is how it started.

Last night, I was lying awake, just thinking about that one kiss. The house was quiet, but I couldn't sleep. My thoughts kept returning to the way she had stood there with the snow falling lightly into her hair, and I realized that this crush hurt a lot worse than most. I heard a door open quietly, and lying on the couch I looked up as Maggie came into the living room. She said, "I understand I took your bed too." I replied that that was true, and she said, "Well, you're more than welcome to sleep in it again." She looked at me, turned around and went back into the bedroom. I was off the couch like a shot! The funny thing is, nothing happened last night. I mean, we made out a little, but for the most part we just spent the night talking, and, that was all right too. She fell asleep in my arms, and I went out myself not long after. When I woke up this morning, she was still there, and that in and of itself was amazing. There is nothing better than to wake up and find someone warm in your bed.

I slipped her arm off of me, and went out to the kitchen to make coffee. Kyle and Carly were already up, and AGAIN with the knowing looks! "I'm glad the two of you are getting along so well," Carly drawled. "Nothing happened." I responded, "I was just tired of sleeping on the couch!" Kyle shook his head, and Carly just laughed at me. I'm REALLY going to have to say something to them!

December 21st, 2006.

It's been a busy couple of weeks, and a lot has happened. For one thing, I'm not sleeping on the couch anymore, at all, and the rest I won't write here. Kyle and I went down to the marina to see if anyone was around the other day. He knew the proprietor there, and it was the same guy, when we walked through the door. Vic Mazetti was his name, and he's an ex-pat from New York City, He had actually moved out west, and found a quiet place after 9/11. Now, I'm thinking that he's feeling pretty lucky. He said that there weren't too many folks around what with the passes filling up with snow, and all. He also said that the traffic that had been going through, kind of stopped dead the day of the EMPs. He was shocked and outraged, like only a New Yorker can be when pissed, when we told him about the camps, and what was going on further west. We told him we'd been doing some hunting, and he said, that kinda fit. He'd been hearing some gunshots from up our way, and was thinkin' about a trip up there one of these days to see what was going on. Vic told Kyle that he had gas to spare at the marina that he'd be willing to trade for fresh meat, so, that was good news as well. We chatted a little more, exchanged a little more news, and went home.

In the truck on the way home, Kyle told me that Carly was pregnant, and that they had been trying. He said that ever since they'd lost Anna, it hadn't felt right to either of them, and although Anna could never be replaced, they still wanted to have a family. So, this was a relief, but also pretty scary, it's going to be hard without hospitals, and doctors, and stuff. I congratulated him in the truck, and told him that was some of the best news I had heard in a while. I told him, that I was also thinking about moving on after New Years. He said that he wasn't surprised, and we would need to start planning for that. We would need to go over some gear, but he felt that we had enough to spare. He also said it would be hard to go back to it being just him and Carly, and I told him, I knew what he meant. One more thing, Maggie is feeling a lot better, and she is planning on going with me, so that's a huge load off of my mind.

January 3rd, 2007

The last 10 days or so has been extremely busy. (I feel like I'm always saying that, but there's just so much to DO!) We have worked out a plan between the four of us to get me and Maggie on the road again. Kyle told us, if we put the snow chains on the tires of the truck, and we're careful, we should be able to get the rest of the way over the Sierras, and down into Nevada. Kyle will drive us until his gas tank is exactly half full, and then he'll have to turn around and come back. He's traded for some gasoline from Vic down at the marina, so he'll have some gas cans in the back of the truck to refuel if he needs to.  
We have cannibalized the neighbor's non-working car, and built a cart using the car tires. This, we will put into the back of Kyle's truck, so that when we get where we're going, we'll unload it, and be able to carry enough water, food and supplies to hopefully make it across Nevada. Maggie has her .22 rifle, and I have my ol' Kentucky, single shot it may be, but better than nothing, and from that point, we will be on foot and towing our gear behind us. We have canned goods, soups, jerky, and we have filled probably 60 two liter (former soda bottles) with water and a drop or two of bleach in each one. We have blankets, and a tarp for shelter, and all things considered, I think we'll be in pretty good shape.

Christmas was kind of fun, Kyle and I were able to finish the bearskin, and it is in front of the fireplace now, and New Years was even better, Carly had found 4 paper party hats, and a bottle of champagne from somewhere. We tried to figure out when it was midnight, but I think we were off a bit. As it was we danced a little, to the old wind up record player, had a little party, drank some champagne and played some board games. It was nice, a tame little party compared to previous New Years, but the quality of the company made up for that. Kyle even had a few firecrackers that we lit and threw out back! POP POP POP!

We slept late on the 1st, and kind of took a little holiday that day. Reading books, going for walks, a snowball fight. Carly even built a lopsided snowman with a fedora, a pipe, and button eyes! I wish I had a camera to record all of this, but even if I did, who's going to develop the film?

We spent yesterday and today finalizing preparations to leave, and we now have the truck loaded and ready to go in the morning. I can't believe it's really happening; this has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I am in much better shape than when we arrived, and this has been a safe place in which to regain strength, learn new skills, and develop into a better person. Maggie is excited as well, and she has a spring in her step, and a glint in her eye. She has really recovered quickly considering, and her hair is growing back in on the side that Carly had to stitch up. I'm a lucky guy! We had a final big meal tonight, all four of us, and Carly got a little teary eyed, and she walked away from the table muttering something about, "Stupid hormones!" But she bounced back fairly quickly. She has put together a nice first aid kit for us, and a little booklet that describes what to do in certain situations, "Just in case you run into any more bears, Ray." That's all for tonight. We're going to be going home.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Tom Petty, "Life is a Highway"

January 4th,  
Outside of Yerington, Nevada.

Well, we are on our way. Maggie and I have camped for the night. We have a small fire going right now, and after Kyle dropped us off this morning, we have walked probably 8 miles. The little trailer works great! And together, Maggie and I have found that we can pull it easily. We haven't seen anyone around either, but that is to be expected, wide open spaces and stuff.

There were tearful goodbyes this morning with Carly. She is sad to see us go, but she understands. I am sad to be moving on as well. I started to tell her, "That someday when this is all over with, I'd try to get back this way, or at least write..." And she said, "I know."

We didn't say goodbye to Kyle until he dropped us at his half a tank of gas point. I think he actually took us a little further than he said he would. But, he had enough gas in the back of the truck to get home. We unloaded on an empty stretch of road in Nevada, repacked the cart, exchanged hugs and handshakes, and had a final bite to eat before he left. He handed me a cloth wrapped bundle that he said was from Carly, and when I unwrapped it, it had about a dozen biscuits. We kind of laughed, and then he handed me another package and said, more seriously, "This is from me." When I opened it, he had put his .44 Colt inside along with about an almost full box of shells. I said, "Kyle, I can't accept this..." And he said, "Take it, it's going to be a lot more dangerous where you are going, and besides, Carly and I have the two rifles up at the cabin. You'll need it." So, I took his handgun, we said our final goodbyes, and that was it. Maggie and I stood on the side of the road, and watched until his truck disappeared from sight. She hugged me, and said, "Shall we get going?" And I said, "Yes."So, we started walking, and have ended up outside of Yerington, Nevada this evening. It's a little warmer now that we're not up in the high mountains anymore, but still chilly. I think I'd rather cross the desert in winter anyway, no rattlesnakes for one thing, and it'll be a little cooler than in summer or fall. We made our little fire when we stopped, and the stars are brilliant out here. Maggie has already counted 20 or so shooting stars, and I think we'll be up a little while longer watching them together. I'm tired, but I feel good. Hopefully we can make some good distance tomorrow.

January 5th, 2007  
Schurz, Nevada

We walked all day today, taking frequent breaks, drinking water, and we made it to Schurz, Nevada. There is a couple here with two little kids that are going to be driving as far as Ely, Nevada, they said in exchange for some food, and a few other little things, that they would let us load the cart, and ourselves in the back of their truck, and we could ride that far with them. I did the math with my atlas, and I think that would shave about 250 miles of walking off of our trip, plus it puts us real close to the Nevada, Utah border. It would probably take us a month to walk that far, and we will be able to do it in a day or two. Maggie agrees with me. We can give them two weeks' worth of food for that, and still come out ahead on the deal, because we would have used twice that to have walked that distance.

Their names are the Carters, their little boy is about 8, and their little girl is about 6. They seem like nice folks, and they are headed for Toby's parent's house. Schurz doesn't seem like much of a going concern right now, as a lot of people have left already. It's rapidly becoming another Nevada ghost town. I don't like the way people have been looking at me and Maggie either, I didn't realize I guess, that things could change so quickly, Maggie and I have been keeping our weapons in reach the whole time we've been here, we don't have a lot, but what we do have counts. Their greedy little eyes keep returning to our cart, and I feel like there is speculation as to what is on it under the lashed down tarp. One guy, when we first walked into town nodded at my Kentucky rifle, and kind of sneered, "That thing actually work?" He was a big guy, and I think he was a little drunk, because he took a half step towards me when he said it, and I don't know why I did this, maybe it was nerves, but I halfway pointed it at him and said, "Find out." He backed off real quick; I guess a .54 cal. will do that. I unzipped my jacket to expose Kyle's .44 tucked into my belt as well. One of us will have to stay awake tonight at all times to keep an eye on our stuff, and make sure that we stay alive through the night. I hope the Carters are leaving early tomorrow; I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to.

January 6th,2007.  
Back of the Carter pickup truck

We left early this morning. Maggie and I camped on the Carters lawn last night; they didn't want us in the house, which I can understand, given the vibes in the town of Schurz. We gave them half the food this morning, and we will give them the other half when we arrive in Ely, Nevada. We've been moving right along too! It's a little chilly back here, but Maggie has been snuggling with me as we've been riding. She's sleeping as I write this. It's about mid morning right now, and I figure we have about 150 miles to go before we get there.

Something horrible happened this morning about 20 miles outside of Ely. I dozed off for what felt like a few minutes, and as I was opening my eyes, the truck was stopped, and Toby was out of the driver's side of the pickup, pointing a 9mm at my face. He said, "Get out. And leave your stuff...we're not driving the two of you any further." I felt Maggie stirring beside me, and her hand going into my waistband for the .44. I put my hands up, and stood up to jump down from the side of the truck. Toby had taken about 4 steps back, and his voice had taken on kind of a crazy, semi hysterical edge. "BOTH of you!" He yelled. "We're leaving you here!"

All I could say was "But we're not to Ely yet." As I jumped down. Toby was shaking a little bit, and that's when Kyle's (our) .44 went off right next to my head, and blew Toby's head apart like a watermelon. His wife started screaming from the other side of the truck, and the kids were crying. His wife was repeating herself, over, and over and over again, "Don't you understand? We NEED that stuff more than you do! We have kids! We need it! Don't you understand?" She had stepped around the back of the truck, and then she saw Toby on the ground, spread eagled, missing his head, and she went berserk. I don't know what happened to me, I froze I guess, but Maggie just looked at her and said, "Shut up." and jumped down from the truck as well. The woman lunged at Maggie, and Maggie back handed her, and then followed it up with a solid punch to her nose. All I could hear was the kids shrieking in the front seat, seeing Toby's body on the ground.

All of this had happened in about 30 seconds. I walked over to the corpse and picked up the 9mm. Maggie was kicking the woman now...and the kids were still screaming. Maggie walked away from the cowering Mrs. Carter snarling, grabbed the kids out of the truck, and stalked back over to where the woman was laying, and sat them both down in the dirt still screaming. She then walked up to the drivers side of the pickup, looked at me standing there, pistol in hand, and said, "GET IN RAY!" I just looked at her. "She sighed for a second, and said a little quieter, "Ray, it's okay...get in the truck." I started to walk around the back of the pickup to get in on the passenger side, and on some level, I believe the Carter woman grasped what was going to happen, she latched onto my pant leg, and moaned out nooooo, no, no, no, no, no,...pleeeeease...take us with you. Pleeeeease, don't leave us here...pleeeeeease..." I shook her off, got in the truck, Maggie put it into drive, and we pulled away. I looked over my shoulder, and saw her crawling towards her decapitated husband, the children still holding each other and screaming, and I had to look away.

We got about 2 miles up the road, and I looked at Maggie, and said, "Stop the truck." She pulled over, and I got violently sick. Her expression never changed. I haven't seen this cold side of her before, and it's frightening. When I was done throwing up, she handed me a water bottle, and I took it, rinsed my mouth out, spat, and felt a little better. "You okay?" she asked. I nodded assent, and then I said, "I've never killed anyone before." Maggie looked at me for a long minute, and said, "If it makes you feel better, you didn't actually kill him, I did. And I've never killed anyone before either." She kind of shivered a little. "It doesn't feel very good though, does it?" I had to agree. She put the car in drive again, and we pulled off of the shoulder and kept going.

January 7th, 2007  
Salina, Utah.

"Don't you understand? We need this stuff more than you! We have kids! Don't you understand?" I am standing in a ditch on the side of the road, looking at Maggie, and she's missing half her head. I took a long shuddering breath, about to yell, and I sat up in the dark shaking. Maggie, rubbing my back as I sat there rocking in the darkness. Arms wrapped around myself shivering.

"Bad dream?" I nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?" I shook my head no. "In that case, do you mind if I get some sleep?" I looked at her in the darkness, and I said, "Not quite yet." And I just held on to her. Stroking her hair until the shudders passed. I took second watch last night. I think Maggie had a few bad dreams of her own judging by the way she started awake a few times. In a lot of ways, she is a lot tougher than me. She has a way of seeing to the heart of things a lot quicker, and she is faster to act, when acting is needed.

We pulled into Salina, Utah this morning, and we were able to fill up the gas tank, for about half of our remaining food, and most of the Carters' more valuable possessions. It's only been about three months since the bombs, and people are really starting to grasp the bigger picture, it doesn't look like help is coming. All things considered however, I think we'll have enough gas to get into Colorado, and that is a good thing. The Rockies await, and I think this is going to be much more challenging than anything so far. I don't think we'll find another place to fuel up after this, so when the truck dies, that's going to be it. We can't afford to trade anything else, but maybe we can get something for a working vehicle, we'll see. Right now, we're stopped for a pit stop, and a little lunch, right here on the border between Utah and Colorado, and we'll get back on the road soon. We've already burned half of the gas that we got this morning, and my guess is we'll be done with this truck by tonight.

We've been following the Colorado River on I 70 since Grand Junction, and there's a lot of back tracking that we've been doing around the bigger towns. Lots of wrecks, and the remains of what looks like rioting. So the interstate is blocked in a few places, but we've managed so far, we're running on fumes now, so I don't anticipate it being much longer before we're on foot again. The snow has made things a little difficult as well; right now Maggie is driving very slowly to try to conserve fuel, and also to keep us from sliding off the road.

Well, that's it. The truck ran out of gas. We're right outside of De Beque Colorado. We've unloaded the cart, repacked it, and we'll camp here tonight, and get a fresh start in the morning. In a way, I can't believe we've covered this much ground in 3 days. It almost seems like magic, we used to live in an age of miracles, and it's funny to think that we took things like travel for granted. Now, however, we've got some rugged ground to cover. I'm taking first watch tonight, and Maggie is snuggling in next to me. I think it's going to be cold.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Godsmack, "I'm Doing the Best I Can"

January 13th, 2007

We are so very very tired. We have been pulling that damn cart for days now. Through snow, no less. 2 days ago we broke into a roadside ski shop called "Big Al's ski and snowboarding." We "borrowed", to use Kyle's term, a couple of snowboards to lash to the wheels in order to get over the bigger drifts, but when we get to open pavement they have to be removed again so that the cart can roll. Maggie and I have been looking for a place to hole up for a few days so that we can rest a little. Our supplies have reached the point where we might even be able to discard the cart altogether and make packs.

Tonight we are camped just outside of Eagle, Co. and the town seems, from a distance at least, to be deserted as well. Where is everyone? We had thought that some of these towns would have been self sufficient enough to make it. Less people means more resources. It's starting to get really creepy. Sometimes it feels like we are the last two people alive on the whole planet. Every time I pass a deserted vehicle I have to fight the temptation to write something from "The Stand" on the windshield. "The old woman is in Boulder, and Flagg is in Las Vegas." Humor. Stress. Cold. Cramps. We are however, making progress.

We passed a sign on the freeway yesterday that mentioned something about a detour around Denver. Apparently it got hit as well. That does not bode well. Eagle is about 75 miles from Denver as the crow flies, and how I envy them! Crows that is, it would be fantastic to just jump up and fly over all of this. Maggie and I need to figure out how we're going to get around Denver. If it got nuked we're going to give it a wide berth. Maggie has been a real trooper about all of this; she doesn't complain about anything, she just keeps going! I wish I was that tough, in a way I am, her strength gives me strength, if she doesn't complain, I can't either.

I think we're going to cut north tomorrow on hwy 131, to begin our roundabout trek to get past Denver. We can always cut back south once we've passed any kind of danger. We're having some hot stew tonight, and I wish we still had some of Carly's biscuits to go with it.

January 16th, 2007.

My toes have been bothering me the last couple of days, numbness. When I took my boot off tonight to rub my feet, my little toe on my left foot has turned black. Maggie hissed when she saw it, it turns out I have frost bite. We've found a place to hole up for a few days, someone's house. But no one has been here for weeks. It has already been thoroughly scavenged as well. I am not looking forward to it, but Carly did write out some instructions for what to do if this happened. The toe is going to have to come off.

January 19th, 2007.

It hurt to lose a toe, but not as much as I thought it would, and we are ready to move on, I have a bit of a limp now, but we both realize that we have to stop every time we feel uncomfortable and warm up. That will slow us down, but in the end, we should be able to make it without losing any more fingers or toes!

We can get rid of the cart today; we have been eating the canned food for the last few days, and have been conserving the jerky, powdered soups, and lightweight food to carry with us. We are making packs to carry the rest of our stuff with us. I am so happy not to have to drag that thing anymore! We think we can make it to Hot Sulphur Springs by tonight, and maybe there will be people there.

January 22nd.

Well, we found people in Hot Sulphur Springs, but not the kind we were hoping for. We were on the edge of town, just walking, with our heads down, and when I looked up there were about 20 soldiers around us. Weapons leveled. They were completely silent, and Maggie and I stumbled to a halt. There was a tense moment when I thought they were going to shoot us. Then one of them came forward, and relieved us of our guns, most of our food, and then they began to interrogate us. Where were we from? Where were we going? What were our names? On and on and on. Eventually they put us on a truck, and that's how we've ended up in a camp outside of Loveland, Colorado. We were able to keep a few small things, blankets, a few small personal items, my journal, road atlas, but they took everything else. It still pisses me off to think about it. This will be the third time I have been stopped on the road, disarmed and stuck in one of these God forsaken camps! It makes me want to howl with rage, but I'm just too tired.  
There must be ten thousand people here. I think that there were many, many more at one point. There is not enough food or shelter for everyone, and there are soldiers walking the perimeter. Apparently the trucks come once a day to deliver food. It's a first come first served kind of thing. Maggie and I are in a little better shape than most of the people here, but it will only be a matter of weeks before we start to look like these people.

Apparently most of them are from Denver and the surrounding suburbs. Information is still scarce. No one is talking! How can this tragedy continue on in this way? People have been very interested in us, and we actually have more information than most.

February 2nd, 2007.

I haven't really had the energy to write lately. But I have been feeling compelled to write a little more, so I will catch up on what has been happening for the last few weeks or so. The soldiers have been leaving a few at a time. I don't know if it is desertion, or if they have been reassigned to other areas. Every day, there is a little less food delivered, but Maggie and I have been holding our own for a little while now near the front of the line. People start to line up for their rations about 4 hours before the trucks arrive, so we've started doing that too. There is a lot of elbowing, and scuffling most days, but we always manage to get what we need. I think slow starvation is worse to see happen, than anything else. Most of the day people just sit around, and wait. Conserving their energy. It is depressing, and infuriating, and I don't understand why they are so adamant that people remain in these camps! I'm getting kind of worked up writing this, so I need to stop.

February 18th.

The soldiers' presence keeps dropping daily. Every morning a few more are gone. The food deliveries haven't come for the last few days, and there is an ugly mood here. Maggie and I have been drinking as much water as we can, trying to fool our stomachs into thinking that they are full. I think we might die here if this keeps up.

February 19th.

There are less soldiers again today. People are slipping away in the night. The last real presence other than a few sentries on the perimeter is a tank parked near where the food deliveries normally come, and a small detachment of soldiers. One truck has come in today, and Maggie and I couldn't get to it in time to get any food.  
We are so very hungry and tired.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Pearl Jam, "Nothing Man"

February 26th, 2007.

I have needed a week to compose my thoughts enough to put the complicated feelings I am experiencing down on paper. Even so, it is so very hard to write what I need to say. Tragedy, and mindless violence occurred, and I will do my absolute best to try and recapture the events of February 20th.

It started that morning when the food trucks came. Maggie and I had been waiting for hours like everyone else strong enough to wait. Three trucks this time. They backed up to the gates, and people were eyeing them with barely concealed impatience. The sergeant in charge of the military detachment had hopped up on the tailgate of one of them, and he had a bullhorn in his hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your patience. Our unit has been reassigned elsewhere, and I must inform you that this will be the LAST shipment of food for you folks!" A woman in the front said, screamed actually, "You brought us here! Where should we go now?" There were growing murmurs of hostility from the crowd all around us as well. People had been relatively quiet during his announcement, but the swelling voices were getting hard to ignore. "People!" the sergeant yelled through his bullhorn, "People! May I have your attention please...?" And then someone threw a rock. And then more people were throwing things! "People!" the sergeant yelled again. Then there were people being crushed against the fences, and then the fences broke! Thousands were swarming through the breaks in the fences, and I tried to hang onto Maggie's hand, but I couldn't. It was so loud, that I couldn't hear myself shouting her name. Automatic weapons fire opened up, and I saw people streaming towards the soldiers, streaming towards the trucks full of food, like lemmings running off a cliff! I was still shouting for Maggie, and I saw her once! Then she disappeared. Swept away and around the corner. I was in the part of the crowd heading the other way, being pushed, being jostled, I needed to keep moving or get trampled. The machine gun on top of the tank opened up, and I saw the gunner just get overwhelmed and torn to pieces by the crowd. I managed to get outside the group of people pushing, pushing, pushing, and then I was clear, and there was no sign of Maggie. 25 soldiers or so never stood a chance against 10,000 starving people. The shots had quieted, there was a pile of people on the food trucks, fighting for what they could get, and there was no sign of Maggie. I went back to where we had been sleeping and gathered up our stuff, but she wasn't there. I waited maybe four hours, and still no Maggie. The tank had gone, the soldiers were dead or fled, the trucks were burning or had left as well. People were milling around looking dazed. And I was alone. I walked east for two days in a weary staggering column of people falling by ones and twos alongside the road, never to get up again. And then I realized that I was walking by myself on the third day. I had been searching for Maggie the whole time, and never found her. Every woman's body in a ditch with long brown hair I had to turn over, but it was never her. I've lost her. I don't know what to do.

I am outside Greeley right now. Still walking, heartbroken, and alone. I need to keep moving or I'll freeze to death. I keep passing bodies on the road, and I am afraid that one of them will be hers.

March 10th 2007. (I think)

This is one of the first coherent thoughts that I've had in days. I haven't been able to write, sorry. I have been living like an animal, pulling up clumps of grass to have something in my stomach, wandering through buildings in my way scavenging for something to eat. Sucking on pieces of ice. And this coherent thought is that I've just been putting one foot in front of the other, just one more step. 2,618 steps to the mile. Just one step at a time. I haven't seen anyone in two weeks. Just walking. The sole of my right boot has been flopping with every step I've taken for the last week. The clop, clop-clop of my walking pace has been driving me mad! I have found a torn up swath of ground heading south. Like a mass migration of people went through here. I found myself here a few hours ago, just standing in one spot and swaying. I don't know how long I was standing there, just looking. Mind blank, staring at this evidence that there are more people around. I found the smoldering remains of a camp fire, and have built it up a little. I think I may have made it to Kansas. It is not as cold as it was, and I will stay here by this little fire tonight, and hopefully I will wake up in the morning.

March 11th

I am more coherent today than I have been in some time. Maybe I'm dying, and my mind has sharpened. I don't know. I ate some more grass this morning, and drank some water. And I have been following this trail southwards. I have hit a road that I think is I 70 again. There is a sign that says "Jericho 11 mi." So, I will start walking east again towards Jericho, and if I don't find help there, I think I am going to be done. I did the best I could. Maggie, I hope you're alive and safe somewhere. I love you.

Musical suggestion for this segment: Limp Bizkit, "Behind Blue Eyes"

March 12th, 2007.

I can't believe I'm warm. For the first time in weeks I am warm. I stumbled into Jericho this morning, and NO ONE took a shot at me. I haven't actually spoken to someone for what seems like my whole life. These people that live here, they look like gods. They're clean, they're civilized, and I actually smelled a woman's perfume as I passed her on the street. There are children playing outside, and an almost abnormal sense of normalcy if that makes any sense at all. It didn't take people long to realize that I don't belong here either. And seeing my reflection in the shop windows on Main Street (unbroken windows) I could actually understand why. I was filthy, my beard was bushy and wild looking, I probably smelled horrid, and honestly, I looked like one of the guys I would have crossed the street to avoid when working in San Francisco.  
Someone asked me if I needed help, and all I could do was nod my head yes. They took me to a church and introduced me to a guy named Roger. He took one look at me and said, "We need to get this man something to eat!" I had soup, hot soup with crackers! I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks as I ate. I have never been so grateful for anything in my life, as I was for that bowl of soup! Afterwards, I was able to bathe, and shave. Roger gave me clothes to wear, and I fell asleep in the middle of a conversation about where I was from, and what I had seen. I started awake late this afternoon, panicked, feeling trapped! It took several minutes for my heart rate to slow enough for me to breathe with anything approaching normalcy.

About an hour after I woke up they took me to see the mayor, Gray Anderson, and a couple of other people, I can't remember their names...they wanted to know how things looked out there, and I had to be honest with them. It's pretty freakin' bleak! I told them about what I saw in California, based on that, the whole west coast is a mess. There were rumors, and rumors of rumors in the camps. But without the national media, that trustworthy fourth arm of government, there's just no way to tell. California was already a state full of fear, even before the bombs. No one knew anyone really, not even their neighbors. Immigrants, mostly illegal, lived 25 or so to a two bedroom apartment. I am afraid that a lot of opportunistic behavior happened in the first days after the bombings. A lot of areas were controlled by vigilantes, and gangs, or the army. Camps and chaos everywhere, men hunting men, and no answers anywhere. I also told them about the cities that were confirmed as being hit, and how people were dying every day.

They grilled me for a few hours, and I did the best that I could to answer their questions. Finally they let me go, and as I was leaving the office, I heard Gray say to one of the deputies, "Where did he come from? How many more can we afford to take in?" The deputy responded, "He just walked right into town." Gray said, "That is unacceptable! How can we..." That's all I heard before I got out of earshot. At least they told me I could stay a few days and rest! They're going to feed me and give me a place to sleep. And I'll be warm. I need to sleep now.

3/13/2007  
Jericho, Kansas.

After a great nights' sleep I woke this morning feeling restless. So, I quietly dressed in the dark, and decided to go out for a walk around Jericho to try and determine what it is about this place that makes it so very different from everyplace else I have been. The people here genuinely seem to care about one another, and I guess that makes a huge difference in the grand scheme of things. I have seen a lot of folks working together, the town is clean and well maintained, but there is something more than that. Maybe it's my imagination, or maybe it's the fact that they really haven't heard anything yet, or been tested. This town is someplace special though, regardless of WHY this is so, I'm more interested in how it seems to be working. 5 months after the bombs, and America has been tearing herself apart, everywhere, but here. Something tells me that there are lessons to be learned here.

Although the mayor is a bit intense, kind of a fear monger, most of the people here seem to be more stolid types. A little more laid back, they make good decisions, and they count on each other to do the same. There is a little dissent, and it seems that a small group of folks is preparing to head south on their own. I told one guy here that they had a good thing going, and that I would think twice about leaving. He got a little hostile about it, and then I told him everything, everything that I have seen, everything that I have been forced to do and endure, and I nodded at his kids, and said, "Is that what you want for them? To see Dad get his head blown off by the side of the road while someone steals your vehicle?" As I was walking away they were unpacking the car and taking things back inside.

So maybe I did a little good. It is frustrating to see these people going about their lives, in a lot of ways acting like nothing has changed. Right now I'm in a little playground at the local park, sitting on a swing and writing this. I think that I'll just sit here for awhile, close my eyes, and pretend. Pretend that nothing has happened, listen to the birds, and the kids playing on the slide, and just soak up the atmosphere of this place.

3/14/2007  
Jericho, Kansas.

I am finding that knowledge is power. People have been seeking me out in ones and twos. Some people in Jericho have family on the west coast, and have been willing to pay in food for that information. Normally, I would talk to people for free, but up until the day before yesterday I was eating grass and slowly but surely starving to death. My replies initially to "ask the mayor" have fallen on deaf ears, and I don't know how many times I have related my experience in the camps, my confirmation of cities destroyed, my first hand experiences with martial law, and above all, JUST HOW DANGEROUS IT IS, out there. If I can take a little extra with me when I leave this place, then so be it.

Roger's the man! I am definitely going to put him on my Christmas card list. He showed up at the shelter this morning with a new pair of boots he said would fit me. And they do! No more with the "clop, clop-clop!" when I'm walking around. I was able to salvage some of what I wore into town, and now that it's clean, and I'm clean, I feel soooooo much better.  
The mayor came around to the shelter a little while ago, and has been feeling people out on when they are going to be moving on. He was dropping some hints that he hoped it would be soon. I assured him that my stop was only temporary, and I thanked him again for their hospitality. That seemed to satisfy him. During our conversation I was also able to pump a little information out of him about parts further east. He mentioned a place called Black Jack fairgrounds in Nebraska that has developed into a rather sizeable trading post, and I marked it on my atlas in case I go that way. He also said that Atlanta had been a confirmed hit, and also Chicago and St. Louis. He told me that there was a rumor that New York made it however, and that at least is good news! One major city at least pulled through. I wouldn't be at all surprised if that is where the government is holed up. He also told me about Laurence, Kansas, which is on the far eastern edge of the state.

There has been quite a commotion here this afternoon. A contingent of US marines has rolled into town following a tank! These are apparently some of the first soldiers these people have seen. They have come bearing information that the US is starting to recover, that power is gradually being restored, and that Iran and North Korea were behind the bombings! The sergeant in charge also said that we had retaliated against these two countries in kind. I wonder what the Chinese thought of that! While everyone else was hugging each other and the soldiers, I kind of faded into the background a little bit. I have a hard time trusting any soldiers these days, I have seen a few too many of them guarding camps full of hopeless, desperate, starving people lately to really want to have anything to do with them.

All things considered though, there is a celebratory atmosphere in this town tonight, and it would be a shame not to take advantage of it. I have been kind of hanging around with a local farmer by the name of Stanley, he's a likable guy, with kind of a weird sense of humor, and he's invited me to get silly with them tonight on some homebrew. So, I think I'll take him up on the offer, to go drinking at Bailey's Tavern this evening.

3/15/2007

Well, I'm on the road again, and kind of humming a little Willie Nelson under my breath. I have stopped off early to camp outside a little town called Levant, Kansas. I just wanted to catch my journal up a bit before this Jericho place fades into the rest of the story. For starters that was one heck of a party last night! They do it up right in Jericho. Fireworks, booze, (it didn't take much to light me up), nice people, and very giving. It is amazing what a party, a warm place to sleep for a few nights, good food, and good company can do for a man. Physically, I feel a hundred times better than I did entering Jericho, but there was a bit of a weird vibe in the air when I left. I mean, I can't really put my finger on it. That Gray guy must be bipolar or something. First, when I got there, he was semi hostile, which I can understand, I mean, I grew up in a small town myself, and they have to take care of their own first. Then, when the marines arrived, he was like, "Stay as long as you want and rest up!", after that, during the height of the party last night, I was already a little tipsy and about to go back to the shelter and crash, when I saw the mayor walking by again, and he seemed really tense. He was kind of talking to himself when he saw me. He stopped dead in his tracks, and said, "So, you're going to be leaving tomorrow?" I had actually considered staying a few more days, but I just don't have it in me to protest anything, anymore. "Sure." I said. He told me that there would be a patrol going out in the morning heading east, and that if I wanted to save myself five miles or so of walking, that I could go with them if I wanted to. He said to see Stanley, he would be leading the dawn patrol. You know, I never did see the marines leave, they must have split after I went to bed. Hopefully they're not going to be guarding a camp somewhere.

So, early this morning, mildly hung over, I was scrambling onto the back of a horse with my meager possessions all packed up. Heading east into the sunrise with a bleary eyed Stanley leading the way. I edged my horse up next to his, and said, "You ditched me last night! Get a guy drunk and then just leave him surrounded by strangers! I tell ya!" Stanley said it had been a long night. We rode out about 7 miles, and as the patrol was getting ready to return to Jericho, I hopped down off the horse. Stan said, "Here." and he handed me two packages of Top Ramen, and a small plastic bottle of the homebrew we had been drinking last night. "Hair of the dog that bit ya! Good luck! I hope you get where you're going man." He hesitated for a second, "You've been following I-70 right?" I agreed that I had been planning to, why? He looked at me for a long moment, like he was thinking hard about something. "I think that maybe you should start following Highway 24, the next town is Levant, and then Colby. Stay away from Laurence, you knew that got hit right?" I nodded. "It's still real dangerous out there, and I wouldn't count on the marines to be everywhere, keeping people safe." And with that he turned his horse, with the one I had ridden in tow, and rode back to the waiting patrol, on their way back to Jericho.

So, I started walking again, and that is how I have ended up outside of Levant, Kansas. I think I'm going to start traveling at night, try to avoid attention. I've been marking my route a little at a time on the atlas that I keep in my pack, how far I've gotten each day, where the good towns are, the cities that people have told me are gone. Areas to avoid, etc. So, tonight I get to check Levant, Ks. off my list, as a place that I camped. I found a nice tight thicket of scrub brush that blocks the wind, and I'm going to have a little fire. I'm hungry, but I already ate once today, and I know that I will be a lot hungrier in a few days, so I'm gonna try to save what I have for when I really need it, it's hard telling when there will be more. That's all for tonight. I'm going home.

3/16/2007  
Levant, Kansas

I have sat outside this town all morning, watching. I didn't see any lights last night, and so far today, I haven't seen anyone around. So, I'm going to go in and see what I can scrounge up. They either sleep real late around here, or no one is there, so, we'll see.

THAT was almost a fatal mistake! Levant was a pretty small town, and no one was around when I got there. There was no chimney smoke coming out of the homes with fireplaces, and I kind of walked up and down the streets for a little while to see if anyone was around. I guess a few days in Jericho softened me up a little, but I'll tell ya, those instincts kick in again pretty quick! There was a lot of rubbish in the streets of Levant, papers blowing around and stuff, and it looked deserted. I had to laugh at myself, as I was walking down one of the main streets, a hundred dollar bill blew up onto my boot, and out of habit, I picked it up! Hey! It's a hundred bucks right? A gust of wind then blew about 10,000 dollars worth of money right past me! For a moment I was grabbing as much as I could, and then I thought, "What can I even spend this on? And who'll actually take money?" So I kind of watched as the little mini tornado of bills blew away down the street. I kept the first hundred though, you never know right?

At any rate, I walked up to the first house and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so I went in. Now, I've always been a law abiding citizen, at least until the bombs, but one thing I've picked up along the way is to grab an opportunity when it presents itself. It got me across the Sierras, and out of California, so I figure that if no one is using something I might as well help myself. Right?

The first thing I saw when I walked in was the half naked body of a woman laying half in and half out of the kitchen doorway. And looking around, it was fairly easy to tell what had happened. I'm not going to go into too many more details, but judging by the condition of the body, this had happened a few weeks back. I'd like to think that with everything I've seen, this kind of thing wouldn't shock me anymore, but it still does. I figured my first priority should be food, so I went into the kitchen, and honestly, things were pretty ransacked. I did find three cans of dog food under the sink, and a new manual can opener. There was also a little cooking oil over the stove, and some spices, and I took those too. For some reason, I opened the fridge, and I found a few potatoes in the crisper drawer, they had sprouts on them, and I'm not sure, but I may be able to trade the sprouts for something on down the line.

The rest of the house was ransacked as well, so I didn't get much else. I did however stop long enough to put a sheet over the woman I had found. I proceeded in this fashion from home to home, picking up a little here, and a little there, the same horrors in every home, until I got to the last house. Like an idiot, I just walked on in, and a shotgun blast nearly took my head off! I turned and ran, trying to zig zag a little, and get something between me and the shooter. I slipped on a patch of ice, and fell, and I heard more pellets sssssst! Cratack-ack-ack into the side of a car nearby. That person was yelling something that I couldn't make out, so I got up and ran until I could put a building between me and whoever...and then I stopped to catch my breath for a second. There was no more shooting, but I could still hear the person yelling from a few blocks back. I peeked back around the corner, and there was someone, really bundled up, wearing like, six coats, kind of doing some kind of war dance in the middle of the street, still flipping the bird in my general direction, and yelling and brandishing their shotgun. I ran until the adrenaline wore off, and then I collapsed face down in a muddy field, panting. After a little while, I rolled over, and just stared at the sky for a bit. Thin high clouds on a painfully blue sky. I realized that I couldn't hear out of my right ear at all, and when I touched it with my hand, I realized that my whole head on that side was matted with blood, and it was running freely down my neck! Blood on other people makes me queasy, but my own blood makes me down right ill. I passed out for a few minutes, and when I woke up I took my gloves off and probed at the ear a little. The whole top is gone! I have been shot! That's when I got the shakes really badly. Putting a lot of pressure on it, I got to a nearby hedgerow where there is a little stream. That's where I'm camped tonight. I broke through the ice on the stream, got out a rag that I had to tear from my shirt, and I have been cleaning up the ear all afternoon. I got most of the blood out of my ear canal, and I can still hear thank God. But there is a definite ringing that was not there before. It is truly amazing how much blood can come out of your head. The air is thick with the iron, copper smell of it! I'm lucky that dude was using birdshot. Anything bigger, and I probably wouldn't be writing this!

It's pretty cold again tonight, and I'm going to have to make a fire soon. Hopefully that maniac didn't follow me out of Levant, but I'm gonna have to risk it. I'm stiffening up pretty badly; my inner thighs are on fire. It's been years since I've ridden a horse, and I had forgotten how the second day after riding, that that is the day the pain kicks in. On the one hand the throbbing from my inner thighs is off setting the throbbing from my ear, but my pulse is making the pain alternate between my legs and my head. I am hoping it won't get infected, I've only got a few aspirin left in my first aid kit, and I'm going to take a couple, but that is it for the medicine. My hands are still shaking, and it is amazing that I can write anything at all! More tomorrow.

I think it's March 24th.

I have been wracked by feverish nightmares for a week or more, so much so, that I don't even know what day it is. Does it even matter anymore? I am still running a fever, but not as bad as it was right after I lost the top half of my ear. I was just plain out of my head then. After I finished writing...last week sometime? It feels like years ago...I built a lean-to a little further back in the hedgerow along the creek, and I got a decent fire going. I stumbled rather dizzily out to the road to see if it was visible, or if I could smell the smoke, and it seemed to be okay. I didn't want anyone sneaking up on me...then I passed out again. I woke up in the middle of the first night, added more wood to the fire, took more aspirin and passed out again. I was in and out of consciousness for three days, just crawling to the stream to drink, and back to my shelter. I was too sick to worry about anything else, just thirst and rest, thirst, and rest. I had nightmares of being hunted, nightmares about Maggie, nightmares about camps, and soldiers, and bombs. Dreams that only make sense while you are asleep, the kind that cling to you after waking, like socks in fresh laundry. The third night I dreamed of a dog! We were actually having a conversation. In it he told me that the fire was going to go out, and without the warmth, that I was going to die. He said, "When you save someone's life, YOU are responsible for it Ray!" Then he curled up next to me and went to sleep.

On the fourth morning, I woke up, dreadfully thirsty, but with less of a fever, and my first clear thoughts in days. My first clear thought was PAIN! My new friend had torn the bandage off of my ear, and was licking it clean. I woke up howling, and he jumped to the other side of the camp, and started barking at me. It WAS a dog that I had been talking to! I hadn't been as delirious as I thought I was. He's a mutt of some kind, long collie fur, and spots on his face with one blue eye, and one brown. It took us a few minutes to calm down and to sort everything out, then he came back over, turned around three times, and with a grunt, flopped down beside me for some petting. He was sleeping right next to me the whole time. The fire did indeed go out, and the body heat from the dog, and my ratty blankets are all that most likely kept me alive.

I was still running a slight fever at this point, but at least I could think again. We got to know each other a little better that morning. I started the fire up again, and got some water out of the creek to boil for cleaning, and soup, and I decided he deserved a reward for saving my life. I took one of the three cans of dog food out of my pack, and we split it. I fried mine up, but he was happy to take his right out of the can. He was ecstatic! This is a pretty good dog, and I think he was just as lonely and alone as I have been. I went back to sleep for another two days or so (dog standing guard), and broke my fever for good.

I spent a couple more days being lazy, and healing up, and the last two days or so, I have been feeling a lot stronger as well. I think that I can probably make it to the next town soon as well. I hope it's a little more like Jericho and a little less like Levant. I think that Dog will come with me, and to be honest I could use the company. I will spend one more night here by the stream with Dog, and tomorrow we will see if we can make it to Colby. The ear, what's left of it, is feeling a little better. I've been washing it out daily(not fun!) and putting some of Stanley's homebrew on it to hopefully disinfect it a little, it's starting to itch, and to my way of thinking that means one of two things, either A. it's healing or B. it's totally infected and I'm screwed. Either way, I'm going to keep going.  
(Musical suggestion for next segment: Motley Crue, "Doctor Feelgood")

3/24/2007  
It's the same day, so we'll call it the 24th.

I had to make another quick journal entry, and it almost seems too good to be true, but I am now armed again. And I think that this time, I am going to STAY armed. I have been afraid for some time now that someone was going to shoot me (and they did albeit minorly)! Dog didn't seem to care too much, but he was the one that actually found what I have been looking for, and since he didn't care, I've got to tell someone about this, and I guess dear reader that means you. We were walking along the highway, I'm still testing my balance a bit before we head on, so every day we've walked a little further from camp. Anyway, we were out walking, and Dog took off after something that he saw in the brush alongside the road, so, I decided to follow him in. There was a sudden embankment right off the edge of the road behind the bushes, and I slid on my scraped palms, and bruised behind down a fairly decent little gully. I'm lucky I didn't break my stupid neck! The scrub looks uniform from the road, and it hides some stuff.

While Dog was going deeper into the bushes after a rabbit (which he CAUGHT by the way) I was more interested in the state police vehicle that was upside down at the bottom. Looking in the shattered, drivers' side window, I saw a corpse grinning back at me. It was a little disconcerting to say the least. The way his arm was laying, it looked like he wanted to beckon me a little closer..."Wanna hear a secret?" I've really got to start turning my imagination off a little more...I walked around to the other side of the car, and with several jerks, managed to get it open. Officer Mike Jennings was his name. I scored a 12 gauge pump action shotgun, a 40 cal. Heckler and Koch handgun, and a cute little 9 mm mini Glock that he had had as a backup piece in an ankle holster. All three weapons are going to need a good cleaning, but the bores are bright and in good shape. The trunk had more ammunition for the guns, some road flares, a rain slicker, a first aid kit, and about 2 pounds of premium marijuana.

The back seat had a body in there as well, and I'm assuming that Officer Jennings had been transporting the guy in back to the local jail, along with his, I'm sure, "medicinal herb." So, things are looking up, it's rabbit for dinner (thanks to Dog), I'm armed, and now I have some serious trade goods. I've got a real bandage on my ear tonight, and a liberal dose of Neosporin. I think I'm going to make it! Dog says "Good night!"

Musical suggestion for this segment: Faith No More, "Ashes to Ashes"

3/25/2007

Dog and I buried Officer Jennings this morning. I know it seems like a wasted effort, given all the death that has swept across this country. But, I knew his name, and he is going to give me a chance to make it home, so it seemed like the least I could do for him. He was married, or at least wearing a wedding band and I wonder who he was, if he had kids, etc. Someone, somewhere, misses him probably, and hopes that he is safe. All I could really do for him was put him in the ground, and mark where he is in my journal. Maybe some day, when all of this is over and done with, I can come back and see if I can find someone who knew a little more about him, and at least let them know. The ground is still pretty frozen, winter is hanging on extra hard this year, but I was able to dig a small trench, and gather enough stones from the roadside to cover him up. Dog and I said a little prayer for him, and then we went back to our small campsite.

The fire is out now, and I have gathered up our meager possessions, and we will be leaving in a little bit. I got to thinking however, while I was burying Officer Jennings, about something pretty grim. What is grimmer than a funeral you might ask? Well, I'll tell you. At several points in my journey so far, I have come very close to being murdered, dying of exposure, starvation, rioting, or being shot. I have suffered fever, frostbite, blisters, I have left behind people that I liked and cared about, and lost a girl that I may have been in love with. "What point are you trying to make Ray? We know all of this!" you may be asking yourself. The answer to your question is this, in the beginning, I started this journal as a way to cope, really only making entries out of habit. The very real possibility exists that I may not survive to make it home. If anyone is reading this besides me, and I did not give it to you to read, I am most likely dead, and you will have found my body somewhere along the road.

I have written where I am going inside the front cover of this journal now. I have included directions on how to get there. I would ask you dear reader, that if you encounter my body alongside the roadway, that you deliver this journal to my family. Please tell them where you found me. I want them to know what happened to me. I guess I don't want to end up like Officer Jennings, buried in a shallow grave alongside some untraveled highway in the Midwest somewhere. That is all for the grim thoughts for now. We are on our way to Colby.

3/25/2007

Outskirts of Colby, Kansas.

I am very wary of places with people now. I had to make a separate journal entry for what I saw in Colby. For one, there was a lot of smoke still in the air here, and judging by the way things looked, The entire town of Colby had been turned into a refugee camp. I got there early this afternoon.

Colby had been a pretty decent sized little town. On the west side of town I saw a sign for "Villa High Park" and it looked as if people had been camped there for some time. All the trees in the park had been cut down, I'm assuming for firewood, as well as all the trees that had lined the streets in town. Even some of the houses had siding torn off, which I am sure was probably also burned for warmth.

Dog really didn't like this place, and he stayed really close to me as we skirted the town to the south. Judging by the swath of torn up ground heading south, my guess is that the people that had been here, left fairly recently. As we arrived near the east end of town I saw a sign for Beulah cemetery, and then what I saw took my breath away.

We walked up over a slight rise that gave a view of the cemetery, which had been the towns' burial place for some time, it was bordered by what had been farmers' fields, and as far as I could see, there were graves. It looked like they had initially started by putting people in the ground one at a time, and then the graves got bigger, the further out I looked. Like maybe they had started doing mass graves, or body dumps or something. There might have been 50,000 people buried in those cornfields. What happened here? Plague? Famine? Mass Murder?

I pulled out my atlas at this point and spent a little time looking at options. Obviously I wasn't going to be going into Colby, any further than I had to! Whoever had been here, and whatever had happened, they had already consumed everything there was to consume here, and had moved on. Anyone left in Colby was going to be stark raving mad, and desperate. I didn't want a repeat of what happened in Levant!

I am really disappointed. I had high hopes for Colby after seeing Jericho and how organized things had been there. It looks like I am going to have to trade for stuff somewhere else. After consulting my map in the cemetery, Dog and I circled around to the north end of town, where we found the Colby Country Club. Dog was keeping up a steady monologue of growling at this point, and I thought it might be best if we just kept heading northeast for awhile. If everyone else is heading south, I'd rather stay out of it. There is a railroad that leaves town heading northeast, and I think that we'll follow it and see where it takes us.

3/29/07  
Gem, Kansas

Dog and I headed northeast, after leaving Colby. About 8 miles later we arrived on the outskirts of a small town called Gem. There were people in Gem! It was a small farming community, blink and miss it kind of town. They however seemed to have taken the end of the world rather seriously. These people had bulldozed a large earthen wall around the place. Their sentries were alert, and they yelled for me to come in slowly. I could see a couple of grain silos popping up from the center of town, and while I was surveying it from a distance, a BIG guy, in his late 50's who seemed to be in charge came out to talk to me. "We got no room for strangers, no food to spare, and nothin' that you have that we want to trade for. Now, that bein' said, what do you want?"

I told him that I was heading back east to Illinois, and that I had just come from Colby. I had news of what was happening out there, at least parts further westward, and I was wondering if they had any news, and maybe we could trade some information. Sometimes I figure, that if you can get people talking they lighten up a little, and in this case I was right.  
"Information huh?" he said, "Well, we've heard a few things." We swapped stories for awhile. It seems like no one really knows what is going on, where the army is, and everyone is real puzzled about the lack of information. I told him about the "president" in California, the camps, and chaos in Nevada, Utah, and Colorado. I told him about Jericho, Levant, and Colby, a place called "Black Jack" that I had gotten secondhand, that was going to be out of my way, but not necessarily theirs, and a whole bunch of other stuff, that I was surprised he actually got out of me. This was not a stupid man in spite of appearances.  
Apparently, he made up his mind about me, stuck out his hand and said, "Bill Davis." I shook his hand and introduced myself, and then he said, "Why don't you come in for a bowl of soup, and we can maybe talk about getting you where you are going."  
We went to a central building in town that had been converted to a central eating hall. Meals were prepared communally, and everyone contributed. They had adopted the very practical stance in Gem, that if you don't help you don't eat. I was able to look at the layout of this place when we went in through the gates, and it is impressive, small, and extremely well defended. For starters, the entrance zigzags as you walk in, I'm assuming to deflect shell fragments. When I asked why they hadn't built up and down walls more castle like, Bill kind of snorted, and said that the earth walls were better against a more modern army. I must have looked puzzled, because he explained that an artillery shell would shatter a vertical wall, but a sloped earthen wall would absorb the impact better. That made sense to me. When I nodded at the silos, and asked if they had corn in there, he agreed that they did, and that a lot of it had already been allocated for planting.

Another interesting thing was that they had lined the walls with greenhouses, built out of lumber and plastic sheeting. When I commented on them, he told me earlier this winter; they had built them to grow some fresh veggies. They had exhausted their stock of lettuce, tomatoes, and garden seeds but they were working. And we would be having salad along with something called "eternal stew" for lunch today. They heated the greenhouses by keeping domestic rabbits in cages during the night, and people slept in there with the plants. Apparently covering it over at night with tarps, the combination of people's breathing, and the heat generated by the rabbits' large ears, kept it right cozy. During the day, they removed the tarps to let the sun shine in. He invited me to check one out, and compared to the outside temperatures in the 30's it was downright tropical! I'm starting to get some ideas for when I get home.

I could tell that Bill was proud of his greenhouses. When I asked how they had managed to hang on a mere eight miles from a refugee camp that had torn itself to pieces, his look turned a little grim. He told me that was part of the rest of the story. And that he'd fill me in over lunch.

We arrived at the central building where some large antique cast iron cauldrons were boiling over a coal fed fire. In these cauldrons was the "eternal stew" that Bill had mentioned earlier. Apparently the content of the stew changed from day to day, as people added whatever they could. Sometimes rabbit, sometimes veggies, sometimes pheasant, or duck, occasionally someone would show up with a little beef from a dairy cow that was no longer producing. And it always stays simmering on the stove so it never goes bad. Pretty good idea anyway.

After we got a bowl of stew, with a salad and homemade dressing, with fresh bread! I told him I had something to contribute, and I pulled my potatoes from Levant out of my haversack. After they cut the sprouts off (he thought that they'd grow just fine) they cut up the potatoes and added them to the stew.

We continued talking, and exchanging news. And then Bill told me about the camp in Colby. Apparently while they had been building the wall around town, refugees had been taken to the camp there by a group calling themselves Ravenwood, and what people at first thought were soldiers. Ravenwood had shown up in Gem demanding that the citizens go to the camp, and that the town should surrender their supplies. They had almost completed their wall at this point, and since all of the outlying farmers had come in, they had laughed at the mercenaries. They had blustered a little bit, but a couple hundred armed farmers with their families weren't going to be budged.

The mercenaries went away. Everyone thought that was the end of it. They sent a few folks northeast to the next town on the railroad, Rexford, and told them what was going on, Rexford, sent people to Seldon, Seldon sent people to Leoville, and so on and so forth until they got to Clayton. The end result was that all of these towns had banded together for common defense, and the general well being of their respective populations. They ALL had walls around them, they would help defend and feed each other, and help with the spring planting. In short, there are 7 small towns that have formed their own little country, until things get back to normal. Their delegates ratified a ruling body, and backed it up with an emergency Constitution. Until they hear from the legitimate government, they will fight to defend their ground. They fly the flag here. Stars and Stripes forever. And they are Americans, they don't believe that their new government in any way tries to subvert our way of life, but until our government supports them fully, and restores safety and infrastructure, they will continue to operate as a separate entity.  
After my Civics lesson, Bill told me that after they had set up their new ruling body, a group of soldiers had come back to Gem, much larger than the first, there had been some shooting, a number of people had been killed, but with the help from the neighboring towns, they had beaten off the invaders. That in and of itself was disturbing to me. "So, you fought off an attack by the US Government? These were American soldiers?"

And then Bill showed me the symbol that had been on each soldier's uniform. It LOOKED like an American flag, but it wasn't. It was a shoulder patch, the stripes ran vertically, and there were only 22 stars on it. "I don't know who they were, but they were in charge of that camp. They LOOKED like soldiers, and they ACTED like soldiers, but I'll tell you what, they were not AMERICAN soldiers. I spent my time in the marines, my brother was in the air force, I have neighbors who have served in almost every branch of the armed forces, and every single one of us took an oath to this country. I will be DAMNED if I ever salute a flag like this one. Whatever they are, if they were soldiers at one point, they're not now. They're traitors, and I won't stand for that."

I looked at that shoulder patch for a while, and then I handed it back to Bill. He said that camp had finally burned itself out about two weeks ago. Their scouts said that people there had moved off to the south, and good riddance.  
"That's quite a story." I said. That was definitely giving me something to think about as well. Having not served in the military myself, it gave me a whole bunch of stuff to think about. It made me wonder about the soldiers guarding camps further west, it made me wonder about everything. I never once thought to look at the shoulder patches of the soldiers that I had encountered. I would be from here on out though. He spread his hands, "I wish I could tell you more. We were so busy trying to stay alive during that little firefight, and to protect what we had, that no one thought to take any prisoners. We killed them all. The ones that didn't run away anyhow. It was when we were burying the bodies that we noticed the patches on their uniforms."

"So, how did everyone know that you were in a fight?" I asked. Bill laid his finger alongside his nose, and winked. "We rewired the telegraph wires, next to the railroad tracks, and we raided the "Railroad Museum" in Clayton to get four working hand pump cars. With those we can move men, and materiel from one place to another pretty quickly.""You have a train then?" "We have a train. And you get to ride on it if you want. Of course, you'll have to stand a shift or two at the hand pump, but that'll get you as far as Clayton. It's due here in two days, to carry mail, food, supplies, delegates, and whatever else we need. Until then you're welcome to stay, and sleep in one of the greenhouses." I was willing to stay for a few days in one of the greenhouses. I ate eternal stew, helped with the gardening, did some writing, and a whole lot of thinking, and I have to agree, this place is truly, appropriately named. Gem is a gem. Dog and I will be leaving on the midmorning train tomorrow.

Suggested music for this segment: Cake, "Going the Distance"

3/30/2007-4/5/2007

The next morning, Bill's "train" pulled into town. Four hand pump teeter-totter looking "engine" cars were pulling two flatbed train cars piled high with goods, and people, and mail for the good people of Gem. They weren't screwing around either, this train was also a mobile fighting platform, they had two M60 belt fed machine guns set up on both ends, and a guard complement of six riflemen in addition to the gun crews. And it was a lot faster than I thought it would be. The only problem I could see with the setup was that it was mounted on rails, and it could only go forward and backwards, but other than that it was first class travel these days.

We had a one day layover in every town along the way, and after pulling a couple of shifts on the pumps myself, I began to see why. It's HARD to drive a train by hand! Dog made me laugh though; he spent the whole trip on the front car, nose on into the wind with his ears blowing back behind him. They feed those railroad guys pretty good as well, I don't know how many calories they were burning a day, but it was a lot. Because I was standing shifts on the lead cars, they fed me pretty good too!

Five days have gone by since we left Gem, and it has been mostly trouble free. I am impressed at the organization of these people. Every town along the way was fortified, packed with greenhouses, and midway through our trip we stopped in the town of Dresden. Dresden was the central town in this little confederation. Right before we got to the town we passed a little compound of some sort, there was an obstacle course, a lot of shouting, barracks looking buildings, and a target range. I asked about it, and the guy working the hand pump next to me explained that they had instituted their own draft about a month after the bombs. People that were 15 years-35 years of age had to undergo mandatory training in small unit tactics, marksmanship, survival skills, and a useful trade. Some of the veteran types with military training in the area had put it together in kind of a boot camp format. The end result was highly skilled people that could serve as a militia in times of need, or practice a useful trade in peacetime. There had been a few reenactor types around that taught barrel making, blacksmithing, tanning, candle and soap making, fletching and bowmaking, and a myriad of other lost arts that might serve people well, at least until the power came back on. I kind of looked over towards the school/boot camp, and thought, "That would be a useful place to stay awhile." The guy next to me must have read the thought on my face, for he added that, of course, you had to be a citizen of one of the towns to go there. That ended that train of thought. Interesting though. There was one more item of note on our way into Clayton. When we were almost at the town boundary, I saw a shattered locomotive sitting off to the side of the tracks. I raised an eyebrow at the guy pumping next to me, and he looked a little embarrassed. When I asked about it, he told me that initially it had been located at the Railroad Museum. Their resident experts had gone over it with a fine tooth comb, disassembling it, remachining and oiling parts, and putting it all back together after the EMPs killed everything. The locals figured that since it ran on coal it would save everyone the labor on the hand pump cars, so it was worth the effort. They filled it full of water, fired up the coal furnace, and it had made it out of town, on its way south, when some unnoticed stress cracks had exploded the main boiler. No one got hurt, everyone had jumped off before it exploded, but boy had it made a mess! The explosion had scared everyone in town half to death, and it took three weeks to pull it off the tracks, and repair the damage to the rails and ties.

Eventually we made it to Clayton, last stop! Everybody off! I talked to several people here today, kind of finding out what may lie ahead of me, and apparently the town of Norton, Kansas has grown into a fairly large trading post. They deal in everything apparently, and the people there have rather loose morals. It's an anything goes kind of place. Kind of like Las Vegas, meets Bartertown from a Mad Max movie. Initially the folks around here had wanted to bring Norton into the confederation, but a large train had died on the tracks between here and there. The only good thing about it was that it had been loaded with coal, destined for power plants back east. This coal had kept people alive this winter, providing a good way to heat homes. Many of the older homes already had coal furnaces in the basement, and it was a simple matter to bring them back up to standard. The train itself had been the problem. There was no way to get it off the tracks and out of the way. So, Norton remained cut off from the rest of the 7 towns.

So, tonight I camp out in Clayton, and I will be setting off for Norton tomorrow morning. Hopefully I will be able to trade my hidden stash of "green stuff" for some things that I really need. If this Norton place is anything like I hope it is, it shouldn't be a problem.

One final note before I crash out for the night. There is a new rumor going around that Omaha, and Lincoln, Nebraska are still very much a going concern. They are apparently consolidating their hold over the land around them, and spreading out a little bit at a time. People say that occasionally they still see jets over that way, and that actually makes sense to me. I think Omaha had a Strategic Air Command base of some kind there, and it is a larger city. If it wasn't nuked, I would imagine that relief supplies would be getting flown in there, along with regular military to hopefully restore some order in the Midwest. One can only hope that they are real soldiers and not sporting this alternate flag nonsense. I'm eventually going to have to go that way, or close by, and it's nice to think that maybe there is safety somewhere, or a shred of normalcy left in this country.

04/06/2007

Dog and I left Clayton early this morning. We managed to scrounge up a little more food while we were there. I traded the rest of the box of .44 shells from Kyle's revolver, for a weeks' worth of food, a small pair of binoculars, and a promise to deliver some mail to the town of Norton. I've been walking around with them for weeks now, ever since the camp in Colorado. For awhile there I had ammo, but nothing to shoot it out of. People were willing to trade something for it though, so I got some use out of carrying it for this long. Judging by the reaction of folks here in Kansas, I'm one of the first people to come through from California with any kind of news at all. I've been happy to talk to people, and they've been rather open about what lies ahead for me. That is, if you can find anyone to talk to at all.

I decided that the railroad thing had been working out pretty well for us, so I figured if it ain't broke...we followed the railroad northeast through a corner of Prairie Dog State Park, and there really are prairie dogs there! I was laughing at Dog's frustration as he chased them from hole to hole. They would chirp at him, and he would go racing towards the nearest hole, only to have the taunting rodent disappear! Furious digging would ensue, until another chirp tore him away to pursue the next critter.

We have camped tonight about 5 miles outside of Norton by my best guess. I'm feeling pretty good tonight, and Dog and I have been staying up late, feeding the fire, and looking at the stars. It's amazing how dark it is out here when there's nothing but starlight to go by. My ear is really starting to heal up, and we both have a full stomach. Both are really positive things in my opinion. My eyes are starting to grow a little heavy though, so I think I'm going to be asleep in a few minutes.

4/7/07

The sound of jets woke me this morning, early. I saw twin contrails pretty high up, and they looked like they might be military jets. That's something new, I haven't really seen any jets since I left California. They were flying from the northeast towards the northwest. My first thought was "Omaha." This kind of clinches the rumors that eastern Nebraska may still be a normal place, I sure hope so, I'm sure I'll find out when I get there.

Breakfast this morning consisted of a leftover roll from Clayton, and some weak tea. I built up the fire enough to boil some water. Reusing the same tea bags is getting a little old, but it's better than nothing. And a little caffeine in my opinion is better than no caffeine at all. I put the fire out, and we began to walk towards Norton.  
We found the coal train this morning, and it had about 300 cars on it. The amazing thing is that there is still coal left on it. 8 towns kept warm with this coal over the winter, and they've only gone through about 200 cars full, it's amazing how much of this stuff we were burning when things were normal.

Norton was something else all together. That guy I talked to in Clayton hadn't been kidding. It really was a combination of Barter Town, and Las Vegas. The whole southwest side of town was a great big market and county fair. There were roughly 400 "shops" set up there in neat rows. Each shop consisted of a cargo container, a large tent fly set up next to it with tables displaying goods underneath, the inevitable guards and guard dogs, and the merchants.  
The truly unbelievable thing was that no one gave me a second look as I strolled into town. After what I had heard in Jericho about Black Jack Fairgrounds, I thought for sure that I would receive some static about my weapons, but everyone there was armed, merchants and customers and guards. Dog raised some eyebrows though and one guy gave me a long piece of rope for a leash. "You wouldn't want him to get mauled by the other dogs!" he said.

I was happy to have that leash for Dog. Pitt Bulls, Rotties, Mastiffs, and German Shepherds seemed to be the predominant breeds there, and they were VERY well trained. These were professional guard dogs, just waiting for the command to attack thieves. People were trading for stuff everywhere I looked, blankets, sleeping bags, outdoor supplies, food, livestock, weapons, women, booze, gambling, fuel and pharmaceuticals. I started to feel like I was in my element, buying and selling, this I could understand!

The camp was very organized, and prices were high, but I soon found the area I was interested in. I went to the pharmaceutical section first, and I kind of laughed when I walked up to the most prosperous looking tent, and there, behind his table was a bonafide pharmacist in a white lab jacket. He said, "What can I do for you?" I asked how everything worked there, and did they only sell drugs or did they buy as well? He gave me a narrow look, and said, "What do you have?" I produced one of the 1 pound bags of Marijuana, and his eyes widened a little, then I produced the second one, and he was speechless for a second. I casually put my hand near the trigger of my shotgun, and he said, "There's no need for that! I'm buying!" We haggled for awhile until we agreed on a price, he issued me the necessary credits, and I was on my way. I spent the better part of the day in Norton, better dealing everything I traded for, I was able to trade in the mini Glock and its ammunition in the gun area, for more credits, and I got everything that I needed. The end result was that I rode out of Norton on my own horse, a months worth of food tied down on a packhorse, and a major improvement in camping supplies, gear, ammunition, and some additional trade goods. Norton was amazing! There was a lot to see and do there, entertainment, both PG and the adult kind, and the really amazing thing was that it was working! They even had a bakery! I was trying to resist, but I haven't tasted sugar in months, and when the guy showed off his homemade sponge cake Twinkies I bought two, one for me and one for dog! Dog's was gone in two bites! I savored mine a little longer, maybe 4 seconds or so, but if I'd have stayed there any longer we would have spent all our money on breads, and sweets!

This is the trend I have been seeing all over the country. Some places are organized, civilized, and almost normal. Other places are hanging on by their fingernails. Some are downright prosperous, and others are burnt out destroyed shells of what they once were. I'm starting to think that leadership is the most important factor in how a community has managed to hang on. There is no rhyme or reason to it all. Distance, geography, supply and demand, organization, whatever. 50, 000 people buried in a cornfield, a mere 8 miles from people that were doing better than most I have seen. This Norton place was downright thriving, like I said things were expensive, but not unreasonable, and most people will haggle with you to get a price both people can live with.

I'm smug as hell, and I'm actually starting to think I might make it where I'm going. My days as a drug dealer behind me, we rode further northeast towards the town of Alton, Nebraska. Again, with the promise to deliver some mail. I had found all but one of the people I needed to deliver mail to in Norton, and the last one said that she would see that the final piece would get delivered. Things are definitely looking up now, and I'm thinking we might be able to start making 20 miles a day now. We're camping outside of Long Island, Ks. tonight, and I'm frying up some sloppy joes for dinner on fresh bread to celebrate!

4/8/07

Like I said last night, I was pretty smug riding out of Norton with all of my newfound plunder, I was anything but this morning, let me tell you! I woke up this morning with horrible leg cramps from riding! I walked (bowlegged) the source of my pain down to the creek so that they could get a drink, and groaned with the effort of walking back uphill to camp.  
I've decided to name the gelding "Dave." He's a 3/4 Morgan quarterhorse, and he's about 4 years old. I decided on the name Dave, because when I was growing up, one of my best friends was named Dave Morgan. I think he'd be amused that I named a horse after him. The mare I am going to name "Pebbles", because last night when I took them down to the stream to drink, she picked up some pebbles from the stream bank with her mouth and spit them out after she was done drinking. What a weird horse!

Since I am well supplied now, I think after I get to Alma, I am going to steer clear of civilization for awhile. I will continue to follow the roads, but I'm going to try and avoid people at all costs. I feel like I am a good target now that I have what I have, and I'd like to keep it. There are still good people out there, but unfortunately there are a lot of bad ones as well. I spent about an hour saddling the horses, and we will be ready to leave here soon. I repacked Pebbles' load, groaning with the effort of securing her pack. She kind of looked over her shoulder at me when I was tying off the diamond hitch, with accusing eyes, for all the world as if to say "What are YOU complaining about? I have to CARRY all of this!" I've just got to put out the fire and we'll be on our way. Hopefully we can get close to Alma by tonight.

Harlan County Lake, Nebraska.

Well, we crossed the border! I was happy to see the sign that said "Welcome to Nebraska" and we haven't seen anyone all day. Alma is about three miles away, and I will drop off their mail tomorrow morning. We'll be camping on the lakeshore tonight.

We made frequent stops today, mostly so I could stretch and walk off the stiffness of my legs. The good thing is, that in about 4 days, my leg muscles will have adjusted to the riding, and I won't be feeling this bone deep agony any more. I can't wait! Until then I'll just have to tough it out.

After I watered the horses, I noticed Dog was kind of limping a little, and when I looked at the pads of his feet, it seems the change of pace has scuffed up the pads some. I'm going to have to slow down a little, and he may have to ride some of the time, until he gets used to walking a long way every day again. It's worth it though, just to make sure that I keep a loyal friend with me. It's pretty here, and I am enjoying the solitude for a change. The scariness of everything is starting to wear off a little, as I have learned how to do things for myself, and times like tonight, it is almost pleasant. Right now I am as close to content as I have been for a long, long time.

4/9/07

I'll tell you, after sleeping rough for months, with just ratty blankets for cover, an actual sleeping bag makes all the difference in the world! I decided to splurge a little this morning and make some coffee. I picked some up in Norton, not a whole lot, but enough to have some now and then. I also got a thermos there for a song. So, after I have my one cup of coffee, I can put the rest in the thermos, and have some later. Dog's feet seem a little better, but we're going to be taking it easy today. I want to keep a sharp eye on him for the next few days, and maybe we can ramp up to the expected 25 miles a day gradually. I figure with Dog riding over the saddle bow occasionally, we can start by doing about 12 miles a day and go from there. Alma is about 3 miles away, and after I drop their mail, I am not going to be taking any more. It's an obligation that I don't need right now, and it's heartbreaking to see the expectant looks on the faces of people that wonder if their loved ones are safe. Especially those that don't receive any at all.Alma, Ne.

I'm not going into that town. Period. There is something wrong about this place, and I'll leave it at that. I saw someone on the edge of town, and he was just too well fed. No one is that well fed these days! Not even in the prosperous places like Norton, and Gem! He turned and ran when he saw me, and I am content not knowing what is going on there. We've shifted onto highway 136, and I'm planning on camping near Republican City tonight.

I stopped by a farm that I could see about three miles from the highway. There was a weathered, tired looking man that met me about halfway down the driveway. He wasn't QUITE pointing his twelve gauge at me, but he wasn't making any effort to look like he wasn't either. I've taken to riding with my shotgun across my saddlebow since Alma, and I unobtrusively clicked the safety off. "I have mail for the town of Alma!" I shouted to him. No response. I held it up in my left hand so that he could see it. He turned his head, hawked and spat. Other than that I was still receiving no reply. "I'll just drop it here in the road okay?" Still no reply. So, I threw the mail down in the road, and rode off, keeping my eye on him the whole way. No way was I going to let him see my back.

We're nearing Republican City, and as per my usual routine, we'll stop a few miles outside of town to camp for the night. I saw more jets tonight. These were lower than the ones the other day, and they were going somewhere FAST! It's just a theory, but I'm wondering if the forces in Omaha, aren't fighting against the alternate flag boys further west...They obviously have resources in Omaha to fuel and fly jets, I wonder what else they'll have?

4/10/07

I've got to say it again, Alma gave me the creeps. We had no fire last night. I didn't want to take the chance of having unexpected guests show up. I gave Bloomington and Franklin a wide berth today as well. Tonight we're camped east of Franklin. Bloomington LOOKED deserted, but you never can tell. Franklin had people around, and I could feel their eyes on me as we rode past.

There are more people on the road now than there has been as well. A lot of folks are riding horses, I've seen a few bicyclists, a beat up looking motorcycle gang, and the occasional vehicle. I've left the road well in advance of coming into contact with anyone, and I've had to hide behind a barn or two a couple times today. One of the groups of riders had about 22 guys in it, all armed, all hard faced. I may have to leave this road and find a less traveled highway, or maybe even start cutting cross country. I just don't know. I had hoped that things would be normal the closer I got to Lincoln, but it is anything but. On the one hand I am starting to be afraid to come into contact with people, and on the other, I crave the companionship, it is a complex feeling.

4/11/07

Red Cloud, Ne.

There has been a lot of vehicle traffic, the closer I have come to Red Cloud. I saw a single guy on a horse ambling my way about noon today. He was armed of course, and for some reason I waited on the road instead of hiding. He saw me, paused a moment, and then continued to ride forward. He had a hunting rifle across his pommel as well I saw. We stopped with about eight feet of road separating us. "How ya doin'?" I asked.

"Fine, and you?" he replied. I told him I was doing better than some and worse than others. He nodded as if he understood. I told him where I was from and where I was going, and we exchanged news. He was real curious about things further west, and I was really curious about things back east. When I mentioned the weird vibe around Alma, he raised his eyebrows. "We'd heard that that there were some cannibals out that way," he said, "there was a camp north of there, and you hear about stuff like that going on, but you know how the rumor mill works." I agreed that I was familiar with the proverbial mill. We exchanged some other news, and he said that Red Cloud would be the next town in the area to get lights, power and water restored. Omaha and Lincoln had been working around the clock for the last several months trying to get some semblance of order restored. So far though, they'd only managed to regain control of the area 150 miles out or so. I told him about the 7 towns, and their battle with soldiers wearing that funky flag patch, as well as Jericho and the detachment of marines that had gone through, and he whistled between his teeth. "Lieutenant!" he yelled, "You may want to hear this!"

The grassland came alive around us, and about 35 soldiers stood up from the ditches. I went a little pale, and the guy on the horse laughed. "I bet you were wondering what I was doing out here all by myself huh?" I nodded. "We've managed to smoke out a lot of bandits this way. They see a guy on a horse all alone, and when they come charging in, the lieutenant and his men here, well, they bushwack 'em!" he grinned like a wolf. "It's been working pretty good too! I'm just not sure I like feeling like bait on a hook."

When the Lieutenant and his men reached us I was relieved to see Old Glory riding on their sleeves. "So, you guys are real soldiers?" I asked. The lieutenant and his sergeants looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Are there any other kind?" he asked. "Lt. Tom Brady, 82nd Airborne, fresh out of Fort Bragg, and this sly weasel here is Lt. Dale Evans, also recently from Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Don't let the hokey farmer getup fool you, this whole setup is his idea."

I filled the lieutenants and sergeants in on the whole situation so far, and we had to dismount and talk for awhile. I had a lot of information for them, and by the looks on some faces I felt like they were connecting the dots of a much bigger picture than I had seen. The men decided we needed to return to Red Cloud so that I could be further debriefed by higher ups. They pigeon holed me for another three hours upon arriving in Red Cloud, and I told the same stories again. I told them where I was going, and what I was trying to do. I filled them in on every town that I had passed through, what the situation was there, and how many people I had seen in each place. They took my Rand McNally road atlas for awhile and copied down all of my notes. They took my journal away and read it, which was giving me fits, because I have technically broken the law on many occasions, and I didn't want to get hung for one thing or another. A Colonel Johns finally came in, gave me back all of my stuff, told me that I had done a good job, and gave me a travel pass that would let me get all the way to Rock Port, Missouri. They hooked me up with a bunch of MREs, wished me luck, told me where to camp and then left me alone.

The "decoy" Lt. Evans found me camped out in Red Cloud City Park, with Dog, and my horses. I had a fire going in one of the barbeque pits there. "Mind if I join you?" he asked. "Sure" I said, "Dog here is pretty good company, but he doesn't talk much!" He pulled out a hip flask, and I took a nip that burned all the way down to my stomach and put a nice glow on things. We talked for awhile, and it was nice to be around people again, even for a short time. He let me know that all of the towns along Hwy 136 as far as Rock Port were being supplied by Omaha, and Lincoln. They were able to do this because many many transport planes were flying supplies into Offut, and that a conglomeration of military forces were acting in concert to get things up and running again. He said that travel should be pretty safe, with the exception of the occasional armed band. He looked around and said he had to be up early to go catch bad guys, and he wished me a good night. "Never thought I would end up jumping into Nebraska! It's a strange world Ray." I waved, and turned in a little bit after that myself.

4/15/07

I decided to hang out in Red Cloud for a few more days, and rest up. After all, there was plenty to eat for a change, and Dog, the horses and myself, could use a little break from the road. The tension headache I hadn't even realized was there after awhile began to fade away, and this seemed like a good opportunity to catch up on some sleep, repair some gear, repack and reprioritize what gear I do have, set aside trade goods, etc.

I was breaking down the MREs to pack them easier, i.e. getting rid of all the extra cardboard, packaging, etc. when I saw Lt. Brady, and Lt. Evans returning from their morning patrol. They both waved, and the Lieutenants men were herding a few disheveled and disconsolate looking fellas along behind them. Evans said, "You're still here huh?" "Yep." I replied. "So what's the deal with them?" I nodded towards the prisoners. He turned and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, those guys? Those guys are guys that aren't like you. See, we feed guys like you, that can provide us with information that we need, stuff like maps, towns, casualties, etc. My job out there is twofold, one, we find guys like you that can tell us stuff, and two, I serve as a big fat tempting target to SOB's like them. After Lt. Brady shoots a few of them, the rest typically give up. A few of them we put to work on road gangs, clearing the highways between wherever we are and Omaha. The rest that don't want to work are either locked up, or lined up against a wall and shot." "So, you use forced labor to benefit everyone else?" He said that yes, they did do that, and under the circumstances, it was a lot better than most of them deserved. I had to agree with him, it being different times and all. He told me that I had been damn lucky to get as far as I had, and as far as he knew, only one other guy had come through from the west coast. Evans had kind of a steely look to his eyes when he said this, "Let me be perfectly clear. The United States is going to survive this. I bet you haven't seen the flag flying in too many other places have you?" he nodded towards the flagpole in the park, "Well, it will again soon, mark my words."

We made small talk for a few more minutes, and then he looked at his watch, and said he had to go type up an after action report. "Hey Lieutenant!" I called as he was walking away. He turned back and said, "Yeah?" "Why don't you and Lt. Brady come by when you get off work tonight?" He said they would.

That night I was able to get a current events lecture that still has my head spinning! It's almost too large to comprehend. The Lts. even admitted that they only knew a small piece of the bigger picture. Some news has ceased coming out of any areas altogether. Obviously I had only my limited experiences to go by, but what I had been able to tell them had helped to fill in a bigger picture, like I had initially thought. It breaks down like this, The United States had a bunch of bombs detonated at precisely the same time on Sept 19th, "The Day", the world, had watched in astonishment as word came in from one city after another, and for a few days everyone was glued to their televisions, and the internet.

That is when every terrorist organization in the world started claiming responsibility for what had happened, Hezbollah, Hamas, Islamic Jihad, Al Qaeda, The Sword of Allah, Holy Strike, and many many others. The entire Mideast went up in flames. Iran, claiming holy war, and that this was Allah's justice on the infidel American invaders, joined by Syria, Lebanon, Palestine, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia, every Arab Islamic country in the neighborhood, well, they managed to produce Saddam's missing weapons of mass destruction, and our soldiers in Iraq were hit with everything from airborne ebola, to the black death, chemical weapons, low yield nuclear weapons, and dirty bombs, their coordinated strike was launched on September 25th.

Our troops fought valiantly, but eventually they were just swarmed under. The Saudi Royal Family fled to Britain, and Saudi Arabia declared itself a Muslim fundamentalist government. On the 30th, a massive Muslim army attacked Israel, and Israel ran out of planes, bombs, bullets, tanks, and men fairly quickly. By October 8th, they had killed so many enemies, and fallen back so many times, that with no where to go, the acting government at the time released the military to use nuclear weapons. Israel had had more and better nukes than anyone suspected, and in the end, they retaliated so hard, that the pavement was just being bounced around. There was nothing left standing anywhere. The holy land was a graveyard, a desert had been made, and the world called it peace. No news has come out of that part of the world since October 10th. All American forces are considered lost, the navy task forces withdrew from the Red Sea, and the Persian Gulf to regroup and link up in Australia.

In the wake of the horror in the Mideast, The European Union called for an emergency session of their leadership. They met for three days behind closed doors, and when they emerged, they announced a 100 military, economic, and cultural merger, one nation, one people, one future. They also announced that Europe would begin the immediate deportation of all practicing Muslims to North Africa. If indeed, any were found to still be in hiding within the 30 day grace period, they would be shot on sight.

Tony Blair had been quoted as saying, "America paid for her tolerance with a nuclear nightmare, we, shall not do the same. We will not welcome the enemy into our home, so that they may plant the knife of Islamic Radicalism into our backs. For these people, it has been holy war since day one. For them it has all been about Islam. They truly believe in what they are doing. We have been at war with a religion, whether we wanted to believe it or not. Up until this point, we have been tolerant, but from this point on we shall not be. In Europe from this day forward Islam will be considered an outlaw religion, practiced by an outlawed people, that have renounced their humanity in favor of an ideal that deals in bloodshed and violence, followers of Mohammad, we wash our hands of you!"

India and Pakistan finally went at it, but stopped after a limited nuclear exchange. Their future is yet to be determined. China, invaded Taiwan, and not one shot was fired. The Chinese have apparently offered to buy Siberia from the Russians. North Korea invaded South Korea, fighting lasted for two months, and then 750,000 N. Korean troops surrendered. The South Korean Government now controls the whole peninsula. The North Korean leadership had apparently fled into China, but the Chinese, in an unprecedented act of friendship extradited them back to the South Koreans to face trial for crimes against humanity. Our troops in Afghanistan have withdrawn, and the Russians invaded again, many of them have been flying home to help with reconstruction efforts on the east coast.

The EU has been sending support in food, and so has China, but any commitment of manpower has been avoided due to a civil war brewing in the U.S. Right now it's shaping up as East vs. West, with Texas, Alaska, and Hawaii sitting it out. The US still has a full nuclear arsenal cocked and aimed at the world, and no one out there has any idea whose finger is on the trigger. Bottom line, I just walked across no man's land, and Kansas is going to be on the front lines. Whew! That was a lot to take in! Of course, they were apologetic that they couldn't tell me more, but with no media coverage, it was hard to tell what was happening these days. They themselves hadn't heard anything for 2 and a half months. Oh, and of course! The best news of all, the area I am trying to make it to, is in the unknown yellow zone of these guys' maps. Status unknown, I may be walking into a nightmare.

The next two nights were a little better, resting during the day, and hanging out with the two Lts. at night. Dog got a lot of extra attention from the guys and he was loving it as well. We still had a lot of talking to do, and I was still after more information myself. We talked about their mission here a little, and by the sound of things, Omaha was playing it smart, gradually tightening their control and reclamation efforts into a widening circle, that got bigger each day.  
They told me that a mission was quietly being planned to deal with the cannibals in Alma, and I wished them luck. I was packed and ready to go the morning of the fifth day after reaching Red Cloud. As I was preparing to leave, I saw Lt. Brady, and Lt. Evans and the platoon, ready to do another dawn patrol. I walked the horses over to where they were checking gear, "You heading out?" Evans asked. I nodded. "Well, good luck Ray. I hope you get where you're going." We shook hands and that was that, they went one way, and I went the other. Towards home.

4/29/07

I left Red Cloud feeling pretty good. I've spent the last two weeks kind of leisurely traveling through the United States again. I mean, it obviously isn't as it used to be, cars flying along doing 90 in a 55. There are no groups of disaffected kids riding out in cars where you feel the bass thumping in your chest from a mile away; I am on horseback for one thing, but the feeling of being in America, that's what I'm trying to explain. There were a lot of people on the road. Sometimes I would travel and camp with people that were going my way. I guess I felt like I was behind friendly lines because of all the good will amongst these fellow travelers. Every few hours I would ride past a platoon of soldiers, some of them manning checkpoints, some pulling guard duty over chain gangs of former criminals that were clearing the road in some places. It's strange but I felt safe again. I would see the flag flying in towns like Nora, and Tecumseh, Nebraska, and it stirred me in a way that I haven't felt in a long, long time. We took it all for granted for so long, that safe feeling. Never realizing that in one day it could all go away. Sometimes I would look at those small towns as I was riding through them and think to myself, "I could just stay HERE." America was a drug that we were all still addicted to, and a small taste of it again after many months was all it took to rekindle the desire.

Dog was feeling better again as well. The gradual increase in mileage every day was the way to go. I think his feet have toughened up enough now for him to be able to keep up on his own. Nights were spent in good company, cards and live music sometimes. Exchange of news always started with "where you headed?' Where are you coming from?" And gradually a picture was starting to evolve of what I would have to face again soon.

We arrived in Rock Port Missouri this evening, right before sunset. I have been glad of Colonel Johns' pass to get this far. I have presented it to every checkpoint along the way to Missouri. I've decided to sleep one more night under the flag before heading back out into "Indian Country" again.

5/3/07

I was talking to a soldier this morning, while I was saddling Dave up for the ride out of Rock Port, Missouri. He looked like he was about 20 or so, but it's so hard to tell anymore. I look in the faces of some of these "kids" that have seen too much, too soon, and it is heartbreaking. If they look so much older and wiser than they should, how must I appear to them? Old, I bet. I'm ready for a walker at the ripe old age of 34! He was from California, and he hadn't had any word from anyone since the bombs. It can't be easy, believe me, I know, being from somewhere else. Especially when you have a long way to go to get back where you belong. I told him what I could, and I think he took it rather well all things considered. You could see in his eyes though, an urgent need to know more than I could give him. 20, is too young to have that 1000 yard stare, but he had it, they all do.

We, as a nation were not ready for this, some of us that were a little older had an inkling, but these younger guys and gals, they weren't ready. I blame their parents really; those selfish, self righteous prigs that raised their children to think that "Everyone is a winner!" "Hitting is wrong!" the people that killed Mr. Common Sense, and sued over a cup of hot coffee with a loose lid. The entitled, the over privileged, the instant gratification seekers. I honestly hope that they are all dead now. Well, we're all losers now, and if we come out of this, they'll truly know what it feels like to win. I am so very proud of all of them, and heartbroken for them at the same time, but they're trying. That's all anyone can do now,... just try. I left soon after talking to him, slipped off into the morning mist like a ghost, the lights of Rock Port blurring indistinctly behind me.

The mist gradually gave way to bright sunshine, and my mood lightened with it. Dog and the horses must have sensed my gradual mood change, because they brightened noticeably as well. I decided to just get down and walk around noon or so, just enjoying a nice spring day. Summer's heat isn't too far away, with its humidity and mosquitoes. I imagine they'll be pretty bad this year with no one spraying! Bring on the West Nile virus! Dog came up with a ratty tennis ball from somewhere! "Where did you find that?" I asked him. His attention was 100 quiveringly on the ball in my hand, so I threw it as hard as I could, and for the next two hours we walked and played fetch.

We stopped and cooked some lunch at the "Iowa Welcome Center" about mid-afternoon today. As far as I could tell, we might as well still have been in northwestern Missouri! It was very welcoming, and Dog and I took the time to peruse a whole rack of travel pamphlets, advertising "Premier Bed and Breakfast" type places, tourist information for the "Birthplace of Herbert Hoover", and the Amana Colonies. Now there's a thought! Now that I think about it, I bet those Amish folk came out pretty well all things considered. They have a lifetime of experience doing stuff the old way, and they must be laughing pretty hard at everyone else floundering around. Of course, they're pretty humble people too, so my guess is they're not rubbing anyone's face in it. As I was pulling the door open to leave the building, I saw the sign on the door that said "NO PETS ALLOWED", and I looked at Dog and said, "Well Dog, I guess we broke the rules!" Dog just grinned at me, lifted his leg and peed on the building. I scored 5 rolls of toilet paper from the visitor center, and I didn't even feel bad about taking them.

We arrived outside of Bedford, Iowa right before sunset, and I'm updating my journal before I lose the last light of the day. I'm going to have to get used to sleeping with the safety off again, weapons close to hand. Right now, I've got a fire going, and we're camped in a little blow out, about a mile from the road. As I was setting up camp tonight and tethering the horses, I found an arrowhead. I immediately thought of my Dad. He used to take me hunting for arrowheads in freshly plowed fields when I was a little kid. At one time I had quite a collection, they're still sitting on a dusty shelf in my apartment back in Petaluma. Along with all the rest of the junk I used to think was important to me before it all happened. DVD's, magazines, bills, computer games, cell phones, the latest Grisham novel that I was meaning to get to and never did. What the hell were we thinking? THAT CRAP! THAT USELESS CRAP!!! What was I doing in California in the first place? Here I am walking across America...all of it that came before pales to NOTHING, to what I have found out here on the road. Always, always the road. I am so much stronger now, and I'd like to think that I am a better person because of all of this, but why is it that we had to destroy the WORLD to realize it? It all has to have a reason, right? Some kind of meaning in the end?

I'm sorry. I just found myself screaming into the wind, and maybe I just averted a nervous breakdown, I don't know, but I feel a lot better and I can continue writing now. It's real easy, with everything that has gone wrong, to forget how beautiful the world is. As I've been writing this, I've been sitting on the little hill above my campsite, Dog settled in beside me with a dirty tennis ball next to his muzzle. The stars are coming out in the east, and the sun is a tiny sliver on the horizon in the west. The clouds are just beautiful, like hammered copper, and gold blown into glass. The sky is a blue that I can't describe, that fades to indigo in the east. I bet the early pioneers felt like this, all mixed up with awe, and wonder, and fear, and hope, just mashed together in a knot in the middle of their chest.  
That's all for tonight, I've got an arrowhead in my pocket, and I'm going to be dreaming of home.

05/04/2007

Bedford, Iowa

It's a little foggy again this morning. Right now I am boiling some water to put in the thermos. I'm going to be soaking some rice, beans, and lentils along with a little jerky and some beef bouillon cubes. I figure by the time I am ready to camp tonight, they will have soaked enough to be edible for dinner. The days are getting longer now, and everything is really green. I'm thinking I can pick some wild greens for a salad tonight as well. I also found some wild onions this morning that should be good with a little salt. The horses have had plenty of grazing so far as well.

It's about midday, and I have just passed the third giant swathe of torn up ground, heading south. Des Moines isn't too far north of where I am right now, and I'm wondering. No bodies on the ground for a change, and that's definitely a step in the right direction.

I had to stop and make another journal entry; I saw something pretty cool a little while back. We were just past the little town of Mt. Ayr, Iowa when some activity off in the distance caught my eye. I couldn't really make out what it was, so I got out my binoculars and took a look. There was a group of people, maybe 20-25 of them, and they were out doing some planting by hand. It looked like hard back breaking work, and they had a couple of horses pulling one of those old fashioned plows. It was the sunlight glinting from the harness that had caught my attention. I'm glad some people managed to make it through the winter and hang onto their land. I will be camping outside of Leon, Ia. tonight.

05/05/07

I've been looking over the fields as I have been riding today. In some of the fields, there has been little or no activity, the occasional straggly soybean plant, or corn coming up in an otherwise large field of weeds. In others, what looks like winter wheat, maybe planted last fall before the bombs? Any rate, there have been no people, or everyone around here is keeping a low profile. It wouldn't surprise me if it is a little of both. I've seen a few abandoned cars, here and there, alongside the road, and I'm starting to see a lot of wildlife. I saw a doe white tail go leaping off across a field earlier, and there are lots of birds around as well, grouse, ducks, geese, pheasant. I might try my luck with the shotgun a little later and see if I can't get me some dinner for tonight.

Well, it's pheasant for dinner, and it's a BIG one. I know, most ringnecks aren't huge, but this guy must have been the king of his pheasant tribe. Right after I got him cleaned, I built a little fire, and he is now spitted and roasting. Dog isn't bothering to hide the drool coming out of his mouth. We're camping outside of Centerville tonight. We're about two miles from the road in a little hollow. There is a single, lonely tree here, and it's shady. We've been making our 30 miles a day now, and Dog is fresh enough to play a little ball after our daily trek, so I figure he's used to it by now, and his feet don't seem to be bothering him anymore. I figure at this rate, we ought to make it to the Mississippi River in the next 3 days or so, and then, Illinois. That is, if there is a bridge to get over. I would imagine that bridges have become rather high rent places these days. In old times, the highwaymen, bandits, king's tax men, and trolls inhabited the environs of a bridge. I don't want to be taxed, robbed, or end up in a troll's cook pot, so I imagine that any bridge I find I'm going to have to watch for a few days before I attempt a crossing. Worse comes to worst, I could ride north along the Mississippi until I can find a heavily wooded area, and make a large raft. I have an axe, a camp saw, rope, and the know how to do it. I figure I could build a big enough raft for our supplies, myself, and Dog, the horses could probably swim it if they needed to. I could give them a couple of days to rest up upon reaching the other side. I guess...sorry, I can't resist...I will cross that bridge when I come to it. HA! I know, BAD RAY! NO COOKIE! That's okay, I'm out of cookies too! Well, Mr. Pheasant is looking pleasantly golden and crispy, and Dog is making these weird whining sounds staring at the meat, so I think it might be time for dinner. Will write more tomorrow.

5/6/07

I am still following Hwy 2 today in Iowa, still heading east. Things are still real quiet, and there is no traffic on the road. I'm passing abandoned vehicles occasionally, but no people. I've seen dust off in the distance a few times today, but nothing coming my way, so I haven't let it disturb me too much.

I've just ridden by Milton and Cantrill. They both seemed real quiet. I have, however, seen five more farms being planted off in the distance today. Lots of planting going on, and all by hand it seems. Maybe that's some of the dust I've seen off in the distance as well. BIG thunderstorm off to the west behind me, and coming fast. The breeze feels good, and I'm sitting in the saddle watching it come. Silver bolts of lightning, and the crackle and boom of thunder. It's still about 15 miles from me, if the whole counting thing really works. We're going to get in under some shelter, and ride the storm out for a little while.

I found kind of a ramshackle little shed on the remains of a farm north of the highway in some trees. We got in here just as the storm broke, and there is baseball sized hail coming down! The wind is really something too! A limb crashed to the ground nearby, and the hail has put a few holes in the roof of this place, it's a good thing we weren't still out in this. I'm kind of hunkered down just inside the door, watching the storm. I found a dog eared paperback in one of the cars we passed today by a guy named Lee Child. It looks like it might be a good read, so I'll just do a little reading until the worst of the storm blows on past.

5/7/07

Near Keosauqua, Ia.

That storm finally blew itself out early this morning. It was a doozy! The shed creaked alarmingly a few times last night, but it held together, enough to keep us just a little damp as opposed to soaking wet. I'm about 3 miles from Keosauqua, Iowa right now, and we're on a low hill in Keosauqua State Park on the other side of the Des Moines River. We've been holed up here for about 3 hours now, and there is a battle raging below us. We're probably too close to the fighting, but I wanted to see what was going on. Apparently the town is under attack, they have a pretty good defensive position however, as the town is on a peninsula formed by the river itself.

The attackers have vehicles of some sort and are trying to force a crossing on the bridge that leads into town. The defenders have been using artillery of some sort to hold onto their end of the bridge, and as I've been watching, I have seen 3 vehicles completely engulfed in flames, and a fourth get hit pretty severely. It looks as if they've repelled more than one assault, some guy has been screaming through a loudspeaker system the entire time I have been up here, something that I can only catch a phrase here and there of. ...KEOSAUQUA!...MAND YOU SURR...KNIGHTS OF PUR...IF YOU JOI...US!! The crackle and pop of small arms fire, the heavier thump of grenades, and the roar of whatever type of cannon they have in that town is making it difficult to hear and understand what is being said. Obviously the guy outside of town is upset with the people inside the town, and he's mad that they're not surrendering. I wonder what he meant by Knights of something or other? Maybe the Knights of Columbus started their own army or something? Who knows these days? Like I said, I think I'm a little too close to the fighting right now, and we're going to quietly move on before dark fall. We don't want to end up as collateral victims to whatever is going on here, and the last thing we need to do is be choosing sides in an affair that is none of our concern.

05/08/07

We traveled until dawn this morning. I've alternately ridden and walked the horses all night, Dog is limping again, I pushed him too hard yesterday. It was all I could do to unsaddle the horses. They are wiped out as well, and I feel badly for all three critters, it's just that I felt it was push hard, or get stuck. We're going to camp here for a few days to rest up; I had planned on us staying in the State Park last night, but the battle going on kind of wrecked that whole idea. At least we're all safe, and more or less healthy. I've hobbled the horses, after I watered them, and rubbed them down really good. They've got a treat of some oats and dried fruit that I've been carrying since Norton, and Dog is looking at me like, "Can I PLEASE go to sleep?" So, we're going to sleep today and see how we feel tonight.

I woke up around mid-afternoon today, and went for a walk, Dog looked at me, yawned hugely, rolled onto his back and went back to sleep. I wanted to scope out the area that we are in, now that it's daylight. We're camped beside a small stream, we're way off the road, and it's forested around the campsite, with heavy brush down below. All things considered it's a pretty hidden little spot. I think we were for the most part, heading southeast, away from the fighting last night, and my guess is that is putting me somewhere near the Iowa, Missouri border again. I walked about two miles across an untended field from the treeline, all the way out to the road we were on just before dawn. My best guess is that it is Hwy 27, a North/South highway, but I'm not sure if we're north or south of the town of Argyle.

There has been fighting here recently as well. Maybe as early as a month ago, but it's hard telling for sure. It could have happened over the winter too. The pavement is littered with debris, useless weapons that were destroyed during the fighting, burned out humvees, and bodies everywhere, a lot of them just rotting in the ditches. On the other side of the road, there was a smashed up helicopter, some kind of wasp shaped deadly looking thing, skids broken off, and the blades, shattered down to stubs where they had dug into the earth, the whole front end looked as if it had been burned, the canopy shattered, but no bodies. I picked up a ruined jacket from nearby, it was crusted with old blood, but the US Flag on the shoulder had caught my attention, on the jacket was a Missouri National Guard patch. Looking around, I realized that all of the bodies left to rot were civilians, and further investigation revealed a painted on logo on one of the hummers, that said "Knights of Purity."  
My best guess is these were the guys trying to raid Keosauqua last night. It looks like they tangled with the Missouri National Guard at one point or another, and got a little torn up! One helicopter looked like a fair trade for 7 vehicles, and over 300 bodies. I could see other wreckage off in the distance further south, and more shapeless lumps in the ditches near them, but I wasn't about to walk that far and find out. The missing bodies of the pilots either suggests that they got out before the helicopter burned, or the infantry supporting them had time to remove them, it's hard telling. Dog had vanished when I got back to camp, and I figure he's out nosing around somewhere. I've built up the fire, and I think we'll have some beef stew tonight for dinner.

5/12/07

We've spent the last few days kind of loafing around here, still in the same spot. I had a pretty good idea yesterday afternoon, and it was kind of based on the box of .44 shells that I traded away in Norton. I went back out to the road, and started pulling the clips from a lot of the ruined weapons that I could find. The end result was that I was able to scrounge a ton of ammunition. Nothing that will work with what I have, a lot of 9mm, 7.62, and I think some .50 cal from the hummers, but the point is, I may be able to trade it for some stuff down the road. I don't even know if it's any good, or if it'll even fire, but other people don't have to know that, if nothing else, people can use the brass for reloads at some point. I saved some of the empty clips as well, I may stumble across a weapon that they'll fit at some point, and you never know.

I figure someone will trade for a couple hundred rounds of ammo. I was sitting here in camp and patting myself on the back when I heard a wet "plop!" sound next to me. Dog had brought home a rabbit for dinner. He sat down and looked at me, cocked his head and whined, like "You really don't expect me to eat this raw do you? Would you hurry up and cook it? I'm HUNGRY!!!!!!" I laughed at him, ruffled the fur around his ears, then proceeded to skin out the rabbit, skewered it, and it is now roasting over the fire. I think we may move on tomorrow morning. This is a pretty depressing place when you think about it. I don't know who the Knights of Purity were, or are, but they sure got schooled here.

(Musical suggestion for this segment: "Flood" by Tool.)

5/14/07

I have started to write this at least three times, because I really don't know how to express it. So, I'll just spit it out. I killed five men yesterday morning. There, I wrote it down, and now that it's on paper, I can talk about it. 6 words. So simple to write, and so very difficult and disturbing to think about. I found myself emphasizing different words in that sentence. For example, I KILLED five men this morning, or I killed FIVE men this morning, or I KILLED five men, THIS MORNING!  
Here's what happened, I got careless. Plain and simple. It's all my fault and I take full responsibility for what happened. I've been so used to NOT seeing anyone, that I just ASSUMED no one was around. This same damn attitude is what almost got me killed in Levant! When am I ever going to learn that just because a place seems safe that it isn't? You have to ALWAYS, always, be on guard or you are a dead man.

I had woken up late, built up the fire to brew some tea, saddled and packed the horses to get ready to go. Cleaned up the camp site, made sure the fire was out, made sure I wasn't forgetting anything. Dog was sitting by the horses with the ball in his mouth, waiting. I made one final trip down to the stream to fill the waterbags and canteens. Thank God I grabbed the shotgun to take with me. At least that is one thing I am never careless about, I am always armed.

I knelt down by the little spring that was feeding the stream to fill up everything; I was there for maybe 10 minutes topping off the water bags. After I had everything full, I walked through the brush, back to the campsite. I moved some underbrush out of the way, and as I reentered the camp site, I looked up and saw them.

Dog was nowhere around. There was a man rifling through my knapsack, another looking off into the woods to my left, two men were holding the bridle, and lead ropes of my horses, and a fifth was already beginning to untie the diamond hitch securing everything to the pack horse. They were filthy and I should have smelled them before I got there, but I was careless. Time just stopped for a second. I stared at them for that second before they saw me, and then everyone was scrambling. I let the waterbags slide off my shoulders, and I was barely conscious of them hitting the ground. I brought the 12 gauge up to hip level, flipped off the safety, fired from the hip from about 10 feet away and blew the entire chest out of the guy that had been going through my knapsack, his arms and legs flew wide, and he flew through the air backwards, his mouth wide open in an "O" of surprise.

The other four were moving towards me, and I racked the slide, brought the shotgun to my shoulder, and I blew the entire top of the second guy's head off, he was gone from the teeth up. The third guy was bringing a very large revolver to bear on me, and running towards me at the same time, and I had no time to chamber another round, and I thought, "This is it. I'm dead." And DOG WAS THERE!! He hit the guy snarling, and they both went over a log and into the bushes. That bought me enough time to rack the slide again, and I gut shot the fourth guy, and he went down screaming, his intestines, looping over his grasping fingers. The fifth guy was on me now, and if he'd have had a gun, I would have been done for sure, but all he had was a big knife, and he was slashing at me with it, teeth bared. He was trying to close with me, and I swung the shotgun as hard as I could by the barrel, and I felt the impact race up my arms. The stock shattered on his face, and a spray of blood, broken teeth and plastic shards went flying. He went down with a shard of plastic sticking out of his left eye.

I heard Dog scream with the kind of horrible finality that only a mortally wounded animal can make, and I spun around from the guy I had just clubbed, to see the man with the revolver, knife in hand, turning towards me, and time snapped back to normal. I drew my HK and shot him three times in the chest. That wasn't enough. I kind of blacked out there for a second, drew my own knife, tackled him, and just began to stab him, over and over, and over again. I took his scalp.

The moans and dying pleas for help, from the gut shot man brought me back to myself moments later, he was crawling towards the creek, calling for his mother, and I picked up the HK where I had dropped it, took 7 steps across the camp site, and shot him in the back of the head. Of the fifth man, there was no sign, but I found him too. I tracked him for a mile through the trees, he had stumbled blindly away from the fight, he couldn't see, and he had stopped with his back to a tree. He heard me coming towards him, his jaw askew from where I had clubbed him, eyes swollen shut, nose flattened, and he mumbled out what sounded like, "Johnny?" I said, "I'm not Johnny." and he began to scream. I cut him to pieces with my knife, and then, with nothing left to kill, I sat down and cried. I threw up everything that I have ever eaten, curled into a ball, and just laid there, staring at dead leaves.

I don't know how much time passed, but eventually I got up, staggered back into my shattered camp site, and I went to find Dog. He was lying behind the log, next to the body of the man that I had scalped, and I kicked the corpse away from him. He was still alive, but he couldn't move. He whined at me, and thumped his tail, but he couldn't get up. I whispered, "Hey buddy, how ya doin?" He had lost a lot of blood. And I sat there, and I petted him, until he died. He just stopped breathing, and he was looking up at me the whole time, with his head in my lap, just glad,...just glad that I was there. I lost my sanity, and I sat there with him through the night, just holding him, and petting him, and thanking him for everything. It was my fault, I was careless, it was my fault, I was careless, it was my fault, I was careless...

Dog saved my life twice, he was my only friend, and now he's gone. I buried him this morning down by the creek, with his ball. It's not right. He was going home with me. He was going to live a long life, and sire puppies, and play ball, and instead he's buried by a stream in some backwater place in either Iowa or Missouri, and I'm not sure which right now, because I don't even know where I am. All because I was careless, and lazy.

5/15/07

Today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me. 'Nuff said. I am leaving here today. The horses are packed, Dog is buried, the fire is out, and I just wanted to make a final entry before I go. I am sitting next to the grave right now, down by the little stream, and it seems like a peaceful place now. I can almost feel a wet nose about to be placed on my neck, so, Dog's still around somewhere. I think he'll like it here.

After I put him in the ground yesterday, I dragged the bodies of the men I killed into the field. They didn't have much on them. I got some cigarettes to trade, the Dirty Harry revolver and some ammo for it, that guy was carrying, a few knives, some Bic lighters, and a belt. One guy had some pretty decent boots on, and I'm trying hard not to think about who he probably killed to get them. And, that's about it. The cost for this plunder was way too high.

After that, I stripped everything off that I was wearing, and waded into the creek to bathe. I was covered in blood, hair, brains, and bone fragments. I scrubbed and shivered for almost an hour, and I still don't feel clean. I don't feel bad about it. Those guys needed killing, and if I could do it again, I would. In fact, it's too bad you can only kill someone once, I'd definitely like another shot at the guy that killed my friend. Even though it was justified, I feel stained now, like I'm wearing a sign that only God can read or see. That sign says, "Unclean", it is a weird feeling. Before this point, I had never contemplated taking a life in anger, I have hunted and never felt this way, I have seen death in my travels, and all the indignity of it. I however, have never experienced the loss of control, and hatred that I felt for those men yesterday...it is not killing them that has left me feeling this way. It is how I felt when I was doing it, the sheer joy of doing what I did in the moment, the ecstasy and complete surrender to a creature that I can only look upon with a kind of primal awe. I BECAME something yesterday that I didn't even know resided within my soul. I guess I can add that to my list of firsts now. What an accomplishment, something to write home about. I'm sorry if I'm a little bitter about it. Just trying to cope and stuff. Maybe someday when my head is a little clearer, and I have the wisdom to look back at this, I will be able to reconcile the two people that I am right now, and make sense of all of this. For now, I can only go forward.

I burned the clothes that I was wearing, saving only my belt, boots, and boxers. I had a change of clothes on the packhorse, so that was all right. I burned that guy's scalp as well. For a brief moment, in my madness, I had visions of nailing it up and keeping it as a warning to others, like some kind of Anglo-Indian warrior, but that is not me. I don't need a trophy like that.  
During the fight, the last guy with the knife got me pretty good. I have a four inch gash on my left forearm. I am starting to acquire a pretty impressive collection of scars. I closed it up with some butterfly sutures, and then bandaged it. In the old days, HA!, just this time last year, I would have gone in for stitches, but there seems to be a shortage of HMO coverage at just this moment in time, and I'll have to tough it out. As long as it stays clean, it should be fine. I wonder if that's what getting older is all about? Having a lot of scars...to be honest, I prefer the physical ones.

I think that I'll still be able to use the shotgun, it's just going to have to be a pistol grip from here on out. I sawed the damaged part of the stock off of it, and I wrapped the grip with some denim from the dead guys' jeans. I then took some real thin nylon rope, and wrapped the exterior of it, and if nothing else it provides a good grip. Maybe I can trade for another plastic stock at some point down the road.

I am going to be going now. Goodbye Dog.

5/16/2007

I arrived in Montrose, Iowa, early afternoon today. This little town is on one side of the Mississippi, and Illinois is on the other. I'm in Mark Twain's old stomping grounds now, and I think that he would feel right at home with the way things are right now. Let's see, Civil war a-brewing, horseback becoming a way of life again, what else? Oh yeah, believe it or not there is a bonafide river boat plying the Mighty Mississippi these days, her name is the Julia Belle Swain, and she is one of the few remaining river boats left over from the 19th century. I never thought that I would see her again. When I was ten years old, my class took a field trip on the JBS, on the Illinois River, where I grew up. But, here she is again, docked in Montrose. Go figure. All I need is Jim and Huck on their raft, and the image will be perfect.

This town has adjusted well to the changes. There is river trade here, all kinds of little fishing craft out on the river, trading posts, bars, gambling, housing, entertainment, and transportation. There is news as well. St. Louis was a confirmed hit, and so was Chicago. So, there. Two more great cities that have fallen on hard times. No more Cubs/Cards rivalries, no Gateway Arch, or Sears Tower, or Lakeshore Drive, Grant Park with its Taste of Chicago and fireworks over the Lake. I am going to be staying here tonight. The thought of a room and a bed seems like a pretty good idea. I've found a little (inn, I guess?) with a stable, a common room, and a door that locks. I will be spending the afternoon at the trading posts, unloading some of the plunder I acquired in the last few days. The innkeeper seems like a pretty decent guy, and he was able to accommodate my needs. The stable boy said that he would see to my horses.

This town has seen a lot of travelers, the Mississippi being a natural highway since ancient times. The people here are pretty well fed, and well supplied due to their proximity to the river. As a result, they are a little more relaxed and willing to trade. Their survival depends on it. There was a contingent of Iowa National Guardsmen stationed here after the bombs, and together with the state of Missouri's support, they were able to hold off the depredations of The Knights of Purity, during their winter campaign. The Knights originated in Davenport, Iowa shortly after The Day apparently, and decided to go on the offensive, raping and pillaging and murdering their way south. It was a weird mixture of factors that made them at least moderately successful in the beginning. Apparently a city councilman, a renegade fire and brimstone preacher, a national guard armory, and rogue elements of the Illinois/Iowa National Guards decided to go into business for themselves. They figured that there would be no one left to stop them. Those were the remains that I had followed north on Hwy 27 yesterday and what I saw on Hwy 61 today before I arrived here today.

I was able to trade the knives, boots, revolver, and all the ammo for all kinds of good stuff. I managed to get 3 pairs of blue jeans, spare bootlaces, 2 new shirts, a new synthetic stock for my 12 gauge, some ammo for my guns, some food, and a carton of cigarettes. Not too bad considering that most of it was junk, it still wasn't worth trading Dog for either.

Someone is knocking on my door I have to go.

5/17/2007

Well! Don't know quite what to think right now. The world's oldest profession is also alive and well in Montrose. The innkeeper just left with one of his "girls", apparently this is a full service hotel, and he was wondering if I was in the mood for a little horizontal refreshment after my travels. I politely declined. It's not that she was unattractive; it's just that the thought of doing something like that in this day and age left me feeling a little uncomfortable. The world was full of all kinds of bad things you could catch before all this happened, and my guess is that all the same viruses are alive and well after the bombs, and probably some new ones to boot! I'm kind of laughing at myself as I'm writing this, because I feel like I'm coming off as some kind of a prude old lady. I was tempted, but the lack of antibiotics makes the risk a little higher than the fun I could have had. Oh well.

I will push onwards tomorrow morning. Illinois awaits me, and that shaded yellow zone that I marked into the atlas back in Red Cloud. I've been asking after news from the interior of the state, and there is surprisingly little of it. A lot of people abandoned northern Illinois during the winter, and moved southwards. Southern Illinois has always been rather sparsely populated given the agriculture there. There are occasional reports of the isolated marauder group, but no one from the riverside towns really wants to go exploring any deeper. They are happy where they are.  
It is frustrating really, to be so close, and to know so little. Well, I'll find out when I find out.

5/18/07

I got Dave and Pebbles out of the stable this morning, and I tipped the kid that took care of them a Hershey bar that I had traded for yesterday. I had gotten the chocolate with him in mind. He seemed like a good kid, he was about 12, I figure, and at the sight of the chocolate I got a big grin, and a "Thanks Mister!"

I loaded, and saddled them up, and led them through town down to the wharf. The Julia Belle Swain had left at dawn for parts further south. Some enterprising fella had rigged a rope pulled ferry across the river there, and that is the way I got to the Illinois side. When I walked up to the ferry with the horses in tow, the old pirate there, asked me how I wanted to pay to get to the other side. I held up the pack of cigarettes that I had taken from the dead men a few days ago, and I could see the greed in his eyes.

He started to reach for them, and I pulled them back. "I will give you half the pack now, and the other half when we get over there." I said, nodding towards the Illinois bank. He agreed that that sounded fair, and happily lighting a smoke, he called to a couple of other guys to get ready to do some pulling! We got on the ferry, and in a matter of 45 minutes I was debarking in Nauvoo, State Park. I paid the man the rest of the pack, mounted up and rode on. Right now, I am camped about 3 miles northwest of Ferris. It was a good day today. I can smell things growing, and I can hear locusts singing their zee-zeee song.

5/25/07

The last week or so has been pretty uneventful. After Ferris, I camped outside of Industry, Illinois, and then Chandlerville the following night. I followed Hwy 125 for a little while and camped outside of Pleasant Plains. The next night I skirted Springfield to the north. Springfield looked like it had torn itself to pieces, just like every other larger than average population center I had seen. Cold, fuel shortages, lack of planning, communication, famine, disease, and loss of power had turned everyone against each other. I could see the fire gutted dome of the capital building sticking up over the trees. I am sure that there are people in there somewhere, but I don't care. It's really amazing to think about how many smaller towns have been able to hang on, versus the larger ones. That gives me hope that Neoga made it. A little hope anyway. My family is there, parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, God, I hope they made it through it all so far. I'll find out in a few more days anyway. Someone still has to be there.

Decatur was in pretty good shape. I used to have a friend in college who was from Decatur, his father was a minister in one of the Lutheran churches there. No one had heard of them when I passed through, however. They had been receiving regular air drops of food, and there was a small detachment of the Illinois National Guard there. Communications had been spotty, and other than the orders to hold in position, they hadn't been getting much in the way of instructions. Again, I find it odd, there is evidence of a functioning government further east, but it seems as if they are consolidating their hold over things before pushing further west. If the Western government and the Eastern Government aren't very careful, they may get to the Midwest, only to find that we've gone our own way. This is home for me after all, and looking around I am horrified at what I am seeing. All the things that I have learned along the way, I may have to start putting into practice soon. If the government can't help after 8 months, then we are going to have to help ourselves. Right now I am camped south of Decatur on Hwy 121.  
Southern Illinois has always been rather sparsely populated, like I've said before, but I am finding it to be rather alarming, just how few people I have seen around.

5/26/07

I left the Decatur area, early this morning, and the roads are beginning to look familiar. Lots of trees with ice damage are still visible alongside the road. People have been planting along the road here, and the crops are about knee high already, but you can tell it's been a little dry because the leaves are rolled up on most of it. I can smell the earth, and feel the humidity in the air.

There was a light afternoon shower today that increased the humidity a bit, and I had forgotten how much I love that smell! That kind of dusty, fresh rain on warm pavement smell. It didn't last very long, but it was nice riding with my face turned up into the air and feeling it hitting me. I will camp outside of Mattoon tonight. The temptation to push on into the darkness is there, I AM SO CLOSE!!! It is still another days' ride however, and I don't know what I will find when I get there. If I get in trouble, it will be better to be fresh, and have the horses be fresh, than to have to flee with all of us exhausted. I will get an early start in the morning.

5/27/07

Pebbles, has thrown a shoe. It is going to cost me some time today, to reshoe her. I have spares, nails, a file, and instructions on how to do this, but I have never done it before, so I will need to be very careful and take my time. The last thing we need is a hurt animal because I got in a hurry. We will camp an additional night here, because I don't know how long this is going to take.

Well, I managed to reshoe Pebbles, it took awhile. The other three hooves look good, and just for good measure I checked Dave's as well. It looks like we'll be good to go soon. It's getting dark soon though, so I will stay put and rest tonight. We need it anyway.

5/28/07

I took the interstate to Neoga this morning. I was tired of screwing around with back roads. As I trotted into town, the streets were too quiet. No one was around. And then I heard it...singing. I headed towards the singing, and crossing the railroad tracks, reached the western side of town where there are a few churches. Was it Sunday? I didn't know. In fact, I haven't been sure what date it is for some time. I've just been counting backwards, how many days since my last entry, etc. Maybe it is Sunday. I tied the horses to a lamp post on the corner, and entered the Presbyterian Church. I took my hat off, and slipped into the back pew. Was there anyone here I knew? All I could see was the back of people's heads. I sat through the whole service, listening to the sermon, and the people singing. Soaking it up. I was almost home.

As the service ended, I saw familiar people standing up, and as I was all the way in the back, I slipped out the door first, back to where the horses were waiting. I waited for the people to come out.

I watched the people coming out of the church, I recognized a few faces, but I couldn't place the names. It's been too long. Finally, I did see someone that I know. My Aunt Tina and her family were coming out the door, exchanging a few words with the minister, laughing and smiling. She glanced my way, and then did a double take. I saw the recognition dawn on her face, and she smiled. "Oh Ray!" she said. "We've all been so worried about you! How long have you been here? What's wrong?" And while I was happy to see her, the people that I desperately needed to see coming out of the church, well, they weren't. I was afraid to ask really. I could barely whisper, "My mom and dad? Kathie and Mark? Are they...are they here...?" Tina looked at me for a long moment. You could see the pity on her face. "Honey, why don't you sit down on the steps over here for a minute?" I let her lead me by the hand to the church steps, and we sat down. She had both of my hands in hers now. She looked uncomfortable, and cleared her throat. "Ray, your Dad went to the city for his allergy shot the day of the bombs. No one heard anything else from him, and your Mom went looking for him." Ice. I was ice inside. Too late! I was too late, I should have been here. I could have done something. "Your sister and Mark arrived the next day, but when we told them about your Mom and Dad, they went back north as well." I just let the tears happen, I could feel them spilling over my eyelids. They're all gone...

Tina continued, "Kathie and Mark found your Mom, but no one has heard another word about your father." I looked up quickly. "Are you kidding me?" I asked her. "Kath, and Mark, and Mom are here and well?" She nodded. "I thought for a minute that you were going to tell me that NONE of them came back! Are they out at the house?" She said that they were. "I've got to go then."

I just stood up, and walked away from the lingering crowd of people in front of the church. I clapped my hat back on my head, mounted up, looked at Tina and said, "Thank you!" And then I rode out of town. It was 5 miles to the lake house that my grandparents had built. I knew every pothole in the road by heart; I rode, and took the turns that needed taking on autopilot. My thoughts spinning around all the names and faces of people no longer here. Dad...Dog...friends, relatives, ...all the people everywhere...all gone now. It's time to start over, and I at least have some family left to do it with, that's all that matters.

I made the final turn, down the lane, through the trees, packhorse in tow. I laughed as I saw my sister's dogs racing out towards me. Twin streaks of barking fur, nipping at the horses, and I saw two familiar silhouettes step out on the porch to see what all the racket was about. I had my eyes on a single figure down by the lake. She had on a floppy hat, a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and work gloves on. She had been working in her garden. I jumped from Dave's back, ran don the slope, and picked my mom up in a bear hug, and she said to me, "You're home."

I am home...and everything is going to be all right.

AFTER:

It's been ten years since that fall day that changed our lives forever. This is my first entry since the day I made it home. So, I bet you're wondering how it all turned out? It was two years of hard fighting before the country was reunited. One side lost, one side didn't lose, in the end, it was normal people that took the country back. Politically, we are a very different country these days. Our best and brightest are drafted to serve for two terms for one thing, and then they return to their lives. But, that's enough about politics. It was another 3 years after the fighting ended before they got the power, and communications back up and running. Bandits, cannibals, and rebels hunted down and shot during that first five years. Millions of people were displaced, and our cities with all of their wonders, many of them were lost along the way. Museums, culture, industry, art,...all lost. New cities however have been built, and are in the process of being built, new culture, new art, new industry, they haven't replaced what was lost, but in time they will. America has risen from the ashes, and Lt. Evans as you knew him from the journal, General Evans as he's known these days, well, he got his wish. The flag now flies proudly again over every small town in America. We have all come home now. So much worthwhile was lost, and yet, those of us that lived through it all have gained so very much more. We have earned our place in the world.

Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about this journey. What I had to do, and endure to earn my right to come home. Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought at least once about Dog, and what he did for me. I settled by Neoga when it was all over. I built my home with my own hands, and I planted the apple orchard beside it one sapling at a time. I got married, and my wife Beth and I, we have three kids now, and they will have a future. Someday, they might have questions about what happened, and I hope that they will read this, and understand.

We never did find out who did it, or why. Oh, maybe someone did, but they never told anyone else. And to be honest with you, I don't think that we ever will. It doesn't matter anyway. We are healing, the killing is over, we have our country back, and if I never leave my fields and orchards again, I will die a happy man.


End file.
